Post by Rosalind Tarana on Jan 4, 2010 16:22:34 GMT -8
Rosalind Tarana
[/font]Gypsy Dancer, Spirit Friend...[/center][/size][/color][/font]
Basics
[/font][/size][/color][/u]Name: Rosalind Tarana
Rosalind; from the Germanic elements hros (horse) and linde (tender) and chosen to represent the gypsy connection with horses and her femininity.
Tarana; means music and was probably taken by her ancestor in replacement of his original family name.
Gender: Female
Age: Sixteen
Birthday: Thirteenth Day of the Snow Moon
Species: Mortal - Shaman
Affinity: Death
Abilities: Spirit Friend
Artifact: A rib bone of her deceased Grandmother, worn on a black ribbon around her neck.
Contains the ability Mind Reader.
Level Four artifact.
Role: Gypsy/Shaman
Alignment: Neutral Good
"Winter's breath, the sound of falling leaves..."
[/color][/size][/center]Appearance
[/font][/size][/color][/u]Features: Exotic, foreign, unusual; Rosalind could be considered pretty, but not in the conventional way. She does not wear makeup. Her hair falls loose and unbound, often in disarray. Her face is long and slender with high cheekbones. She is not perfectly symmetrical, but her imperfections are endearing; they make her face interesting.
Complexion: It is the fashion among rich and noble mortals for females to remain delicately pale. A tan indicates one must work for a living and this ill becomes a lady. Here, Rosalind differed from the very start. Her complexion is naturally olive toned, a golden brown backdrop for those imperfect features. Long hours in the sun have bronzed it further, and she is permanantly flushed with a streak of rose across each elegant cheek.
Hair: Long, chocolate brown and naturally wavy. Rosalind is too distracted and busy to spend the time each morning taming it into sleek mahogany locks so it is often windblown, tangled and messy. It is not uncommon to find a leaf or feather caught in the pretty tangle and woven through it are the gypsy markers of gold - coins, shapes, chains. She often wears a red scarf around her scalp to keep the worst of the hair out of her eyes.
Eyes: Dark brown like her hair, exotic in shape and slant, often distant in their gaze. She is easily distracted though certainly not lacking in intelligence and her eyes reflect this. They are extremely expressive, the first window to her every emotion - and these are many and changeable.
Body: Erring on the side of short rather than tall, this gypsy girl is built like most gypsy women; curvaceous with a slender waist, ankles and wrists. This is a womanly dancer's body - athletic, alluring, attractive.
Attire: Her gypsy lifestyle ensures this is colourful, cheery and often ostentatious. Bright colors are a must in her ankle-length silk skirts embroidered with whimsical patterns, a corset of black tied with coloured ribbon, a white revealing shirt with sleeves to her elbows stitched with gold and green. Like all gypsies both male and female she wears a huge amount of gold jewellery, almost gaudy in its overwhelming volume. Surprisingly her cloaks are far more somber, edged with feathers or fur, in pastel or dark colours that blend in with the forest. These, of course, mirror her shaman work and she may also accompany them with plain, workmanlike dresses during her forays into the trees.
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"A whisper of Death...I hear you, my friend."
[/color][/size][/center] Personality
[/font][/size][/color][/u]Quite the enigma, this young gypsy girl, this Shaman of the night. On the one hand a youthful dancer, playful and carefree, a gypsy performer finding freedom in the rise and fall of music and response of a rhythm infused body. On the other hand a quiet Shaman, perceptive and spiritual, seeing lands beyond the living and images of thought.
Pretty Dancer. A gypsy girl, living with her troupe. Family is her most precious commodity, followed by freedom and gypsy gold. She treasures life. She treasures laughter. She desires love and happiness. She believes in peace and dreams. She is alluring when she dances, serious and light-hearted in the same breath. A jangle of bells and the clink of coins follow her every graceful movement, effortless and elegant. She smiles often. She is confident and passionate. A brash, wild-hearted young woman with her whole life ahead of her.
Spirit Wanderer. Her second life, but her first love. She sees the world beyond the living. The ghosts of souls long past visit her, tenuous images with silently moving lips. She has always been spiritual, had an unusual connection to the world beyond the living, but this is uncontrolled, random and unasked for. Not until she masters her death magic will she be able to summon them at will but for now they call to her silently. The touch of wind when none is blowing, the scent of flowers when none are blooming, the sound of footsteps when no-one is around.
Thought Toucher. A gift from her Grandmother, a mistress of darkness. She sees peoples thoughts when she is near them and seeks them, as half-formed images dancing before her eyes. If she is careful and subtle in her desires, she can influence peoples thoughts too. A delicate kind of mind control although she cannot force anyone to do anything if it contradicts their nature and wishes. She can merely put ideas into people's heads, a kind of helper to ones conscience. Sort of. So she is perceptive, you see. She understands human nature, desires, needs. She is sympathetic and unexpectedly accepting. The most important thing is to be happy. And that goes for everyone.
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"I perceive. I accept. I understand. Can't you see that?"
[/color][/size][/center]Abilities
[/font][/size][/color][/u]Spirit Friend (Base): Rosalind is, thanks to her Death affinity, immune to direct mind control.
Mind Reader (Artifact): Rosalind's Grandmother was a talented dark magic user. When she died she left her grand daugher the rather gruesome though undoubtedly useful magic of mind reading in one of her rib bones. It allows Rosalind to see peoples thoughts as visual images if she wishes to, and also subtly influence their thoughts. When she touches someone she sees more clearly.
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"There is beauty in death, too. It just takes someone like me to see it."
[/color][/size][/center]History
[/font][/size][/color][/u]How much history can one have at sixteen?
Well, your path begins the day you are born. My birth was nothing unusual - a first child of my parents, both travelling gypsies. I was one of them from the start. Dressed in maroon and saffron and emerald, tiny gold earrings, chocolate brown eyes. Happiness characterised my childhood. I stood out in once aspect only - I had endless imaginary friends.
What's so strange about that?
Nothing, really. Except mine weren't imaginary. They were real. They existed. They even spoke to me. Spirits of the dead, usually children in those days, endless haunting playmates for a fearless child.
And why should I fear them? They were my companions.
As I grew this faded but never disappeared. The dead visit me at random, unexpectedly. Sometimes I hear hints of their presence, always I see strange images like hallucinations. Sometimes they come as people, themselves, sometimes they send me pictures or smells or sounds that represent them. Until I master my Death affinity I will not be able to summon them at will. For now, I must be content with their fleeting visits and haphazard communication.
I am strange, no?
Unafraid of ghosts, dancing with death. It has always been the way, my life a parody of contradictions. On the one hand a cheerful gypsy dancer, on the other a shaman that can see the dead.
But it doesn't end there, does it?
No, not quite. When I was six my maternal grandmother died. Before she did she enchanted a rib bone with her highest Philosophic ability, Mind Reading. Now I carry it on me at all times and should I choose it I can see peoples thoughts. Like the ghosts they are hazy images only I can see. Thought in a visual medium. If I'm careful I can even subtley influence peoples thoughts. It is a precious gift.
As I said, I am only sixteen. Life still has much in store for me and I wander it on not one, but two paths. The first living and colourful, the path that most take, but the second paved by death. It is grey and blue and deep, dark colours, beautiful in its own way. Enchanting. Alien. I am not afraid.[/size]
