Post by Katy on Feb 22, 2008 23:24:55 GMT -5
General Information
Name: Iolanthe ((pronounced Eye-oh-lahn-thah))
Age: 18 Turns
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Rank: Candidate
Appearance
Hair: Dark blond, with undertones of red
Eyes: Gray
Height: 5' 8" or 5'9"
Over-All: Though Iolanthe is not a woman that could easily be described as "pretty," she couldn't fairly be called "plain," or "homely," either. She is comprised of too many visual contradictions to be accurately labeled under a standard adjective. No; the best word to use when describing Iolanthe is.... striking. A strange blend of her father's sharply angled, severe features, and her mother's full, exquisitely feminine visage, her appearance translates into something instantly arresting, with a slightly androgynous twist. Her strong jaw, broad forehead and defined cheekbones are evidently inherited from her father, while her full lips, delicate nose, and wide, thickly-lashed eyes are contributions from her mother. Her mouth-- a full pout-- is leant a comically askew quality by the resolute tension that perpetually tugs on the left corner, a subtle physical manifestation of her stubborn nature. Her eyes are so full of hues and shadings as to become a noncolor; endless variations on gold, green and blue woven in such tight precision that the iris only really registers as gray. Unremarkable from a distance, and both beautiful and unnerving upon closer inspection, her eyes radiate steely intensity. Thick lashes and gently curving eyebrows do little to temper the fire of her stare, but succeed instead in heightening the contrast of her bone structure.
Her hair is a standard dark blond, with undertones of russet and mahogany. She once wore it long, but chopped it off-- rather roughly-- between her chin and shoulders, out of an odd coupling of the desire for efficiency, and the urge to shed some part of herself. The awkward, lanky build that indued her with erratic bouts of clumsiness in her youth gradually became the slender shape of a rather svelte adult. She had always been taller than average, and-- to her slight dismay-- would never boast more than a hint at "womanly curves."
The strange attractiveness Iolanthe possesses has little to do with her physical appearance. She exudes a subtle magnetism, an understated allure. Her looks are unconventional, to be sure, but nothing that would ordinarily garner serious admiration. It is the energy that she exudes alone that gives her any real-- or imagined-- appeal.
Personality
If there is one thing that Iolanthe believes in above all else, it is honesty. She believes it to be the single true mark of a person's character. She understands that the unflinching honesty is both difficult to present and painful to take, but knows that, at some point of another, people always become intimately acquainted with the truth. It is her admiration for straight-forwardness that led her to develop notable candor. Her brand of honesty borders on brutal, but she's learned over the years to temper her directness with tact. She has a fiercely independent streak, and likes to try to trick the world into believing she's fearless. She will go toe-to-toe with anyone in defense of her convictions. If there's one thing the girl has, it's backbone.
Not overly friendly, or downright antisocial, Iolanthe likes to achieve a pleasant balance between time spent by herself, and time spent in the company of others. She can spend any amount of time analyzing every aspect of the world around her, which often leads to trouble. She thinks herself in circles. She can't stand to be idle for long; she feels as though she has to be accomplish something remotely productive at every possible opportunity. She's all energy and intelligence, with an underlying determination and obstinacy that surface frequently. She has a sharp wit, and a sense of humor that doesn't register with everyone.
Iolanthe's breezy confidence and easy nonchalance makes her a pleasant companion. Though not many would guess it, she's incredibly compassionate, and has excellent instincts when it comes to people. She can see through people with an accuracy that's sometimes frightening. She believes that passion is the most important thing in life-- that without it, you are nothing, and that with it, you have all you could ever need. She's a cynic who wishes she could be an idealist; a girl who's honest enough to admit that (tough as she may be), she's human enough, and often overwhelmed by the hideous uncertainty of it all.
History
Born in Sanctum Hold, Iolanthe is the daughter of a Smith and a Weaver. The only child of a couple who was never officially joined, she developed her independent nature at an early age. Her mother was a rigorous perfectionist, an exacting woman who held both herself and those around her to nearly impossible standards. Iolanthe’s earliest memories of her mother are of the woman hovering closely over her work, fingers bleeding, sometimes pausing to unravel hours worth of weaving upon discovering the most minute flaw. Rigid and demanding, without much true maternal instinct to speak of, Iolanthe’s mother was truly formidable, a woman to be avoided if at all possible.
Iolanthe often felt sorry for her father. A Smith whose aptitude with metal came from natural ability rather than unwavering dedication, he was rarely included in his child’s upbringing. He—much like everyone else—was a perpetual disappointment to Iolanthe’s mother, and spent most of his time trying to stumble his way back into the woman’s good graces. When Iolanthe most desperately needed an escape, she would flee to her father. She spent as much time as she could get away with watching him craft his specialty—swords. He never offered much conversation; he liked to work in relative silence. Yet, the most soothing sound she would ever know was the sound of metal on metal. She always admired his precision, accuracy that came from a love of the craft. For her 15th turn birthday, he gave her a sword he had crafted himself, etched with fluid spirals and masterful blossoms. Much to her mother’s displeasure, he taught her how to use it, too. She spent the next 3 Turns honing her technique, ignoring her mother, and carelessly dismissing the whispering of the Holdfolk spawned by her spending all of her time with the young males of the Hold. Who else was she to swordfight with?
It was a few months after her 18th birthday that the Searchdragon issued its invitation. She needed little time to think. She packed her bags, and was soon off to Sanctum Weyr, trailing apprehension and excitement in her wake.,
OPTIONAL STUFF
FOR CANDIDATES:
Honorific: None
Preferred Color: Gold, Blue, Green. Any! =)
