Sable Corvi
Posted: Mon Feb 19, 2007 10:01 pm
Player Name: Lydia
Name: Sable Corvi
Age: 19
Race: Human
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 140 lb
Physical Description: Sable is beautiful, but unusually so. Her hair, a red so dark it borders on black, falls in loose curls past her shoulders. Dark blue eyes sit in an olive-toned, gently tanned face, a face just soft enough to imply youth. Her mouth is most often set in a decidedly odd expression, the corners tilted into what is almost, but not quite, a smile.
She is not naive of her beauty, of the soft curves and graceful lines which are characteristic of her body. Although she does not actively flaunt her looks, she would not be averse to using them to her advantage, and she certainly does not try to hide them. Her clothes, though simple, are usually subtly flattering.
Possessions: Sable's most important possession is a broken piece of a black feather, concealed between the pages of a book. She has not set eyes on the feather in months, and knows not why she keeps it, but she would not dare to dispose of it. It, along with the event which it symbolizes, is often on her mind.
As for weapons, Sable carries only a simple dagger at her hip, with a blade about the length of her hand. The dagger itself is of no importance, only the fact that it is always with her, as if she is constantly in danger, even when no immediate threat exists.
Powers or Strengths:
Sable is extremely resourceful for a woman of her relative youth. She has had to fend for herself from an exceedingly early age, and thus she is able to adapt to many situations, and has learned to do whatever it takes to survive – beg, steal, gamble, and even, on occasion, work.
Weaknesses:
Sable is bordering on neurosis. Whatever truly happened on the mountain, and despite all evidence to the contrary, she truly believes that a horrific monster took her sister (see history). She is obsessed with the event, constantly running the scene over in her mind, dreaming or awake. To further contribute to her mental instability, she was made an outsider at a young age, and thus has become practically incapable of forming human relationships. She is able to assume a facade of normalcy, pretending at “friendships,” but in reality, she sees others only as means by which she can get what she needs.
History:
Sable once had a sister. She had a family that loved her, and a comfortable home, but most importantly, she had a sister.
Sable was the older, Clare the younger by only a year; both were beautiful, but very different from one another. Where Clare was fair, Sable was dark; where Clare was bony and little, Sable was soft and long-limbed. Their personalities, too, were night and day, Sable introspective, though not unfriendly, and Clare always bright, and perhaps a little too enthusiastic.
They were inseparable, as all sisters should be. Of course, the closer people are to one another, the more often conflicts arise, and Sable and Clare were no exception. But that was to be expected. They always made up in the end.
Perhaps they fought in the mountains. The tension between the girls had been significant on their departure, but then, they were children. How serious could it possibly be?
They had climbed for nearly a day, to collect a variety of berry only found at a certain altitude. It was a familiar trip, and not far from the mountain village in which they lived – but far enough that they were out of sight. No one in the village could have known what had happened, up in the mountains. They had only Sable's story.
They had left together, but Sable returned alone, bleeding from cuts and scratches, as though she'd fallen on the path. Her basket was missing; she carried only a feather, as long as a man's forearm, and blacker than anything the villagers had seen before. Blacker than coal, than night, than shadows – beautiful, but strange, like the girl who carried it.
It had come at the top of the path, she said, a beast shaped like a man, but with wings, dozens of enormous wings that blocked the sun itself from view as they beat around its translucent body. She couldn't describe it, couldn't explain the horror as the creature had descended on her beloved sister, grabbing her and carrying her away. Sable had tried to stop it, tried to save Clare, but she'd slipped and fallen, and tumbled down, strewing her berries across the path – they could look, she told the villagers, if they dared to draw near to that fateful place.
The villagers, however, did not believe her as readily as she had expected. She was telling the truth, she knew she was, but they saw only a child covered in scratches – from the gravel path, or from a frantic sister's fingernails? -- with only a feather as proof for her story. Her face, too, told a tale beyond her story, devoid of the emotion that should have been there. Where were the signs of tears? Shouldn't she have cried when she saw her sister carried off? They talked, the whispers following Sable and her family wherever they went.
And so she left. She would spend most of her life wandering from village to village, city to city, as though looking for something, although she knew not what. Eventually, she would find herself in Marn – just another stop, she assumed, in her nomadic lifestyle.
Sable had had a family who loved her, and a comfortable home, but most importantly, she had had a sister. Now she had nothing.
Name: Sable Corvi
Age: 19
Race: Human
Height: 5'11''
Weight: 140 lb
Physical Description: Sable is beautiful, but unusually so. Her hair, a red so dark it borders on black, falls in loose curls past her shoulders. Dark blue eyes sit in an olive-toned, gently tanned face, a face just soft enough to imply youth. Her mouth is most often set in a decidedly odd expression, the corners tilted into what is almost, but not quite, a smile.
She is not naive of her beauty, of the soft curves and graceful lines which are characteristic of her body. Although she does not actively flaunt her looks, she would not be averse to using them to her advantage, and she certainly does not try to hide them. Her clothes, though simple, are usually subtly flattering.
Possessions: Sable's most important possession is a broken piece of a black feather, concealed between the pages of a book. She has not set eyes on the feather in months, and knows not why she keeps it, but she would not dare to dispose of it. It, along with the event which it symbolizes, is often on her mind.
As for weapons, Sable carries only a simple dagger at her hip, with a blade about the length of her hand. The dagger itself is of no importance, only the fact that it is always with her, as if she is constantly in danger, even when no immediate threat exists.
Powers or Strengths:
Sable is extremely resourceful for a woman of her relative youth. She has had to fend for herself from an exceedingly early age, and thus she is able to adapt to many situations, and has learned to do whatever it takes to survive – beg, steal, gamble, and even, on occasion, work.
Weaknesses:
Sable is bordering on neurosis. Whatever truly happened on the mountain, and despite all evidence to the contrary, she truly believes that a horrific monster took her sister (see history). She is obsessed with the event, constantly running the scene over in her mind, dreaming or awake. To further contribute to her mental instability, she was made an outsider at a young age, and thus has become practically incapable of forming human relationships. She is able to assume a facade of normalcy, pretending at “friendships,” but in reality, she sees others only as means by which she can get what she needs.
History:
Sable once had a sister. She had a family that loved her, and a comfortable home, but most importantly, she had a sister.
Sable was the older, Clare the younger by only a year; both were beautiful, but very different from one another. Where Clare was fair, Sable was dark; where Clare was bony and little, Sable was soft and long-limbed. Their personalities, too, were night and day, Sable introspective, though not unfriendly, and Clare always bright, and perhaps a little too enthusiastic.
They were inseparable, as all sisters should be. Of course, the closer people are to one another, the more often conflicts arise, and Sable and Clare were no exception. But that was to be expected. They always made up in the end.
Perhaps they fought in the mountains. The tension between the girls had been significant on their departure, but then, they were children. How serious could it possibly be?
They had climbed for nearly a day, to collect a variety of berry only found at a certain altitude. It was a familiar trip, and not far from the mountain village in which they lived – but far enough that they were out of sight. No one in the village could have known what had happened, up in the mountains. They had only Sable's story.
They had left together, but Sable returned alone, bleeding from cuts and scratches, as though she'd fallen on the path. Her basket was missing; she carried only a feather, as long as a man's forearm, and blacker than anything the villagers had seen before. Blacker than coal, than night, than shadows – beautiful, but strange, like the girl who carried it.
It had come at the top of the path, she said, a beast shaped like a man, but with wings, dozens of enormous wings that blocked the sun itself from view as they beat around its translucent body. She couldn't describe it, couldn't explain the horror as the creature had descended on her beloved sister, grabbing her and carrying her away. Sable had tried to stop it, tried to save Clare, but she'd slipped and fallen, and tumbled down, strewing her berries across the path – they could look, she told the villagers, if they dared to draw near to that fateful place.
The villagers, however, did not believe her as readily as she had expected. She was telling the truth, she knew she was, but they saw only a child covered in scratches – from the gravel path, or from a frantic sister's fingernails? -- with only a feather as proof for her story. Her face, too, told a tale beyond her story, devoid of the emotion that should have been there. Where were the signs of tears? Shouldn't she have cried when she saw her sister carried off? They talked, the whispers following Sable and her family wherever they went.
And so she left. She would spend most of her life wandering from village to village, city to city, as though looking for something, although she knew not what. Eventually, she would find herself in Marn – just another stop, she assumed, in her nomadic lifestyle.
Sable had had a family who loved her, and a comfortable home, but most importantly, she had had a sister. Now she had nothing.