Post by Marnark’tranarprol on Aug 23, 2009 19:07:34 GMT -5
Name: Orena (Or, ehn, ah)
Age: 17
Gender:Female
Sexuality: Confused
Rank: Candidate/ Sr. Apprentice Weaver (specialty tailoring)
Appearance:
Long, black hair falls past her shoulders, starting out straight, going into wavy curls, and then ending in loose ringlets at the bottom. Dark as a starless night, her hair seems to soak up any light, even sometimes seeming to shine blue it is so dark. But it is not, after all, blue. Just glossy black. Her eyes are a contrasting bright green, however, strangely not really fitting with the intense hair. Set into an ovular face, Orena has a straight nose and an average mouth to finish off her face. She does not smile often, but when she does, it is a genuine expression. When mentally engaged or occupied, thinking or working, her face is either set in neutral, or frowning ever so slightly.
Her body type is nothing to get excited about. It is so average and normal that it garners little attention at all. A hair on the taller than usual side, but not enough to really be noticed, she has a sturdy yet somewhat slender build. Her lighter work never put the stresses on her body in her youth to make it grow the heavy bone structure that some girls can get. Her bosom is there, by no means flat, yet it is still nothing to get attention or to oogle at. Set above a trim waist and well-formed hips, Orena is just plain … plain. Nothing extravagant to make her stand above, and nothing out of order to make her stand apart. If it weren't for the spectacular deepness of the color of her hair clashing with the light green of her eyes, she could easily vanish and never really be noticed in a population. And even these traits, one must be closer than across the room to notice.
As a tailor, Orena tends to wear clothes that fit properly. Nothing is loose, baggy, or ill fitted. And the style varies from one day to the next. She could be wearing something comfortable and modest one day, only to show up in something quite revealing and snugly form fitted the next day. However, they clothes do follow one theme in common in her own attire… she does not wear dark colors. Feeling this would make her look completely dark and forbidding due to her volumes of hair, she instead tends toward lighter cloth materials to offset that deepness of color. White, off white, pale yellows, pastels, and some of the lighter earth tones she can be seen wearing. Nothing with expensive dye colors, however, as she cannot afford that. Though the one thing she wants to create for herself is a rich blue shirt one day. When she's rich…
Personality: Orena is generally a quiet girl when focused on a task. The more intricate the task, the quieter she can get. Until she can be seen bent over an item, stitching away industriously, to turn out a lovely piece of clothing with quite nice embroidery adorning it in intricate patterns. However, this quiet intensity does not carry over to the rest of her life.
Indeed not! Orena can be as mischievous a girl as any, and can laugh and giggle and squeal with the rest of them, running amok. Much to the chagrin of her mother, who had tried her best to raise her as much like a distinguished lady as she could. To garner her respect as an adult, after all. But Orena is not … technically … and adult yet. Her young side still shows glaringly on occasion, and she will find something to get into, and have fun doing.
This does not, however, imply that she goes out of her way to make trouble. She just occasionally finds herself in the middle of it, usually quite unawares. Orena generally will not pull pranks on people that would cause them harm. But she will try to find something fun to do. And if this fun ends up with all the runner stock getting away because of a dropped plank that was knocked aside in an accidental tumble …
Admin's Note:[/hr] Oops.
History: Orena was born at Caspian hold, to a very nondescript family. Her mother was a weaver, and her father was the tailor, taking her mother's goods and turning them into some fairly fine garments to be worn about the place by the residents of the Hold. As a young girl, Orena was a very excitable thing, loving to run and play and … get into things. And the mud, and play with the boys and other girls who were fun-loving. But by the time she was eight, her mother pulled her away from that as much as she could, pressuring Orena to act far more ladylike. Dress nicely, keep her clothes clean, take care of her gorgeous hair, carry herself properly. Though the family was anything but well to do, Orena's mother believed strongly in appearances … and she hoped that if Orena acted the part, she might well attract the eye of some Lordling. Whether the local one, or any fosterling, she didn't really care. She just wanted well for Orena. A placing in life where she would not have to work every day of her life for every scrap of food she got.
Naturally, Orena resisted this as much as she could, having loved the life of freedom and playfulness and occasional mischief. For a few turns, this internal warring went on in the house, of Orena trying to be a tomboy, and of her mother trying to force her into the mold of a respectable young lady. This went on until Orena turned ten, and in breaking her mother's wishes managed to ruin a very nice outfit that had taken both of her parents a full month to make from scratch. She also managed to set her hair on fire and was rendered temporarily half bald from. That being the last straw, her mother raged at her like there was no tomorrow, and Orena was forced to have all the rest of her ebony hair cut off to make it more even. At this point was also when both of her parents it was time to put the unruly child to work … ladylike or no, the family had to eat. So the lessons were redoubled in how to sit, how to eat, how to act, how to speak … and how to do her craft. As she invariably and easily annoyed her mother, she was left to her father to teach. And while a kind and loving man, her father certainly had standards.
He taught her how to cut and stitch and sew and embellish, how to make the very finest clothing from the materials that her mother and elder brother made on the looms. She also learned how to make the plainer clothing, and other such cloth items. But the emphasis was put on the nicer articles. As it took special talent and patience to make such things … things which brought quite a few more marks when sold at market. Orena quickly learned that half and effort would not make her father happy in the slightest, and he would often make her rip something completely out and start over, over and over again until she got it done with quality. So under his strict yet patient and quiet tutelage, Orena learned to be patient and concentrate on her work. To get the job done well, and quickly if at all possible. But quality was not to be sacrificed for speed … if it took an extra day to get the piece done up to standards, than it took an extra day. Within reason, of course. If she took too long to make a certain piece, that got her into a whole other bucket of trouble.
Despite the pressures from her mother and the instruction of her father, Orena never did lose her playful streak … she just hid it well. Often she would hum a little ditty to herself when no one was near enough to hear … every now and again as she started to grow into a womanly form she would try something she had made on, that was fancy. And twirl around the shop for a moment or two. Before hastily taking it off again and putting it away before she got caught. She did not hate her work, not in the least. To the contrary, she loved that she was able to turn out some pretty things of quality. Things that ladies of note could sometimes be seen wearing. Despite her wilder nature, she was still a girl … she loved fine clothes as much as the next lass. She just had a slight advantage … she didn't have to own it to get to try it on. She made them!
Until her seventeenth turn, when a whole other calling made itself available to her. Her mother was horrified, but her father did not expressly advise against it. So Orena decided that this might be great fun, and went to give it a shot. After all … what could be more fun that dragonriding?
Age: 17
Gender:Female
Sexuality: Confused
Rank: Candidate/ Sr. Apprentice Weaver (specialty tailoring)
Appearance:
Long, black hair falls past her shoulders, starting out straight, going into wavy curls, and then ending in loose ringlets at the bottom. Dark as a starless night, her hair seems to soak up any light, even sometimes seeming to shine blue it is so dark. But it is not, after all, blue. Just glossy black. Her eyes are a contrasting bright green, however, strangely not really fitting with the intense hair. Set into an ovular face, Orena has a straight nose and an average mouth to finish off her face. She does not smile often, but when she does, it is a genuine expression. When mentally engaged or occupied, thinking or working, her face is either set in neutral, or frowning ever so slightly.
Her body type is nothing to get excited about. It is so average and normal that it garners little attention at all. A hair on the taller than usual side, but not enough to really be noticed, she has a sturdy yet somewhat slender build. Her lighter work never put the stresses on her body in her youth to make it grow the heavy bone structure that some girls can get. Her bosom is there, by no means flat, yet it is still nothing to get attention or to oogle at. Set above a trim waist and well-formed hips, Orena is just plain … plain. Nothing extravagant to make her stand above, and nothing out of order to make her stand apart. If it weren't for the spectacular deepness of the color of her hair clashing with the light green of her eyes, she could easily vanish and never really be noticed in a population. And even these traits, one must be closer than across the room to notice.
As a tailor, Orena tends to wear clothes that fit properly. Nothing is loose, baggy, or ill fitted. And the style varies from one day to the next. She could be wearing something comfortable and modest one day, only to show up in something quite revealing and snugly form fitted the next day. However, they clothes do follow one theme in common in her own attire… she does not wear dark colors. Feeling this would make her look completely dark and forbidding due to her volumes of hair, she instead tends toward lighter cloth materials to offset that deepness of color. White, off white, pale yellows, pastels, and some of the lighter earth tones she can be seen wearing. Nothing with expensive dye colors, however, as she cannot afford that. Though the one thing she wants to create for herself is a rich blue shirt one day. When she's rich…
Personality: Orena is generally a quiet girl when focused on a task. The more intricate the task, the quieter she can get. Until she can be seen bent over an item, stitching away industriously, to turn out a lovely piece of clothing with quite nice embroidery adorning it in intricate patterns. However, this quiet intensity does not carry over to the rest of her life.
Indeed not! Orena can be as mischievous a girl as any, and can laugh and giggle and squeal with the rest of them, running amok. Much to the chagrin of her mother, who had tried her best to raise her as much like a distinguished lady as she could. To garner her respect as an adult, after all. But Orena is not … technically … and adult yet. Her young side still shows glaringly on occasion, and she will find something to get into, and have fun doing.
This does not, however, imply that she goes out of her way to make trouble. She just occasionally finds herself in the middle of it, usually quite unawares. Orena generally will not pull pranks on people that would cause them harm. But she will try to find something fun to do. And if this fun ends up with all the runner stock getting away because of a dropped plank that was knocked aside in an accidental tumble …
Admin's Note:[/hr] Oops.
History: Orena was born at Caspian hold, to a very nondescript family. Her mother was a weaver, and her father was the tailor, taking her mother's goods and turning them into some fairly fine garments to be worn about the place by the residents of the Hold. As a young girl, Orena was a very excitable thing, loving to run and play and … get into things. And the mud, and play with the boys and other girls who were fun-loving. But by the time she was eight, her mother pulled her away from that as much as she could, pressuring Orena to act far more ladylike. Dress nicely, keep her clothes clean, take care of her gorgeous hair, carry herself properly. Though the family was anything but well to do, Orena's mother believed strongly in appearances … and she hoped that if Orena acted the part, she might well attract the eye of some Lordling. Whether the local one, or any fosterling, she didn't really care. She just wanted well for Orena. A placing in life where she would not have to work every day of her life for every scrap of food she got.
Naturally, Orena resisted this as much as she could, having loved the life of freedom and playfulness and occasional mischief. For a few turns, this internal warring went on in the house, of Orena trying to be a tomboy, and of her mother trying to force her into the mold of a respectable young lady. This went on until Orena turned ten, and in breaking her mother's wishes managed to ruin a very nice outfit that had taken both of her parents a full month to make from scratch. She also managed to set her hair on fire and was rendered temporarily half bald from. That being the last straw, her mother raged at her like there was no tomorrow, and Orena was forced to have all the rest of her ebony hair cut off to make it more even. At this point was also when both of her parents it was time to put the unruly child to work … ladylike or no, the family had to eat. So the lessons were redoubled in how to sit, how to eat, how to act, how to speak … and how to do her craft. As she invariably and easily annoyed her mother, she was left to her father to teach. And while a kind and loving man, her father certainly had standards.
He taught her how to cut and stitch and sew and embellish, how to make the very finest clothing from the materials that her mother and elder brother made on the looms. She also learned how to make the plainer clothing, and other such cloth items. But the emphasis was put on the nicer articles. As it took special talent and patience to make such things … things which brought quite a few more marks when sold at market. Orena quickly learned that half and effort would not make her father happy in the slightest, and he would often make her rip something completely out and start over, over and over again until she got it done with quality. So under his strict yet patient and quiet tutelage, Orena learned to be patient and concentrate on her work. To get the job done well, and quickly if at all possible. But quality was not to be sacrificed for speed … if it took an extra day to get the piece done up to standards, than it took an extra day. Within reason, of course. If she took too long to make a certain piece, that got her into a whole other bucket of trouble.
Despite the pressures from her mother and the instruction of her father, Orena never did lose her playful streak … she just hid it well. Often she would hum a little ditty to herself when no one was near enough to hear … every now and again as she started to grow into a womanly form she would try something she had made on, that was fancy. And twirl around the shop for a moment or two. Before hastily taking it off again and putting it away before she got caught. She did not hate her work, not in the least. To the contrary, she loved that she was able to turn out some pretty things of quality. Things that ladies of note could sometimes be seen wearing. Despite her wilder nature, she was still a girl … she loved fine clothes as much as the next lass. She just had a slight advantage … she didn't have to own it to get to try it on. She made them!
Until her seventeenth turn, when a whole other calling made itself available to her. Her mother was horrified, but her father did not expressly advise against it. So Orena decided that this might be great fun, and went to give it a shot. After all … what could be more fun that dragonriding?
