Post by mittens on Dec 21, 2008 9:06:56 GMT -5
>>Ayabelle<<
Name:[/color] Ayabelle
Age:[/color] 20
Gender:[/color] Female
Sexuality:[/color] Bisexual
Rank:[/color] Candidate
Appearance:[/color] Ayabelle is, to make things short and sweet, a rare beauty, to which there have been few matches. Yet, saying it so simply seems almost criminal. Her hair is a dark, coppery color, deep burgundy and chocolaty brown swirl in a rainbow of hues, her tresses falling in soft curls that swing freely about her head and tapering to a gentle end mid-back. Her skin is pale, creamy, delicate, the sort that makes it oh so tempting to reach out and run a single finger feather-light over the line of her cheek. Ah, but a poor choice that would be. Her eyes, enchanting pools they are, gaze quietly at the world, their color pale, gentle, a sea-green of the early summer, with not a cloud to mar the sun as it trickles down to the bottoms of the ocean and dances on the golden sands. Framed by thick, sooty lashes, with delicate brows arching over and giving expression to her facade, her ruby-stained lips full and luscious. Her figure is slim, toned, that of a predator, yet the feminine curves of her physique make her inviting, tempting, and oh, oh so very desirable. Ah, what a beauty she is, such a shame, in reality. Such a bitter shame.
Her walk is feline, a prowl that brings attention to every inch of her frame, to the subtle roll of her shoulders, the swing of her hips. Never does she waste a movement, never does she let her body act without it reminding the world of the power, the grace, the sheer elegance that ripples through her, waiting to be unleashed. Her stature is average, her height close to 5'6" though she attempts to be taller yet with heeled boots. Her clothing varies widely, colors ranging from every shade in the rainbow, and then some, the style always the most current, the most impressive, the most form fitting. There is no doubt she intends to be looked at, and when eyes fall upon her, she stuns.
Personality:[/color] Her greatest flaw, where beauty truly becomes the beast. For all the wonder that she holds to the eye, as soon as she chooses to show herself as what she is, the world seems to collapse. Her tongue is acidic, her tones capable of biting through flesh in a heartbeat, her pale green gaze able to hold more fury than most would dare dream of. Her rage runs her, drives her, feeds her like nothing else could. To see fear or hurt in the eyes of others... Ah that is sweeter than even the food of the terran Gods.
She is spiteful, sly, devious and cunning, and not at all above using anything she can get over someone. A manipulative creature she is, for she knows what she wants, and will gladly go to whatever lengths she must to gain it.
She has a vivid hate for men in general, and tends to violence when she is cornered, though few would think it wise to corner her after meeting her. There is no softer side of Ayabelle, no kind-heart buried in her chest, no yearning for friendship or camaraderie. What the world sees is all there is to her. She is not shy to tell you this either, though oddly it seems people want to find some better side of her.
Once, in a very rare while when no one is around, Ayabelle will sing softly, either to herself, or to an animal. She has a lovely voice, and could easily have made a life for herself as a singer, reaching the rank of mastersinger would have been no real trouble for her. However, for another human to hear her is rare, as she tries her best to be sure that not a soul is around to hear her.
When her temper is concerned it is something to be feared, she can hold a grudge for Turns and clearly remember the sligthest offense. Once you have crossed her, there is no going back, no second chance at redemption. She has not the smallest qualm with making you wonder if you'll walk away from an encounter with her alive, and she takes great care to cultivate an air of danger about her, a thing that lingers in the air and suffuses those around with a bone-chilling fear that refuses to be banished so long as she is near.
History:[/color] One would think, and correctly so, that for someone to have a personality such as Ayabelle's, one would have to have some sort of a story behind it. One would think correctly. Elban was never an affectionate man, more of a brash nature, caustic, the sort who could get on your nerves just by saying hello. Everything about him seemed to rub people the wrong way, and when he was bonded to the brown wher Elbask, he only became worse.
The man was a raunchy sort, and when his wher lost a mating flight to a gold, he was in a blind rage, needing desparately the comfort of a woman. It so happeneds that Yanlen was in the Hall at the time, tending to a hurt, and she was a lovely woman. Never was she so attractive as hr future daughter, but none-the-less, she was far from plain. Elban took the shocked Healer, from that experience begetting a son which he was to never know of, at least not for many a Turn.
Never did Elban apologize, and Yanlen left the Hall, later birthng her son in Vyrzen Weyr durring a short term as a Journeywoman there. Vyrzen took the boy happily enough, and he was raised never knowing the truth of his family, Impressing an Onyx to the delight of many, and vanishing fro the story, for at least a time.
Turns passed as they seem to do no matter what we may want, and it came to a day when again, Yanlen was in the Wher-Hall, and again, on a day when the Brown Elbask has lost a mating Flight, his bonded in deep need of a rut. Once more the woman was violated, adn again, she bore a child by him. Again, fearful, she left the hall, birthing the baby girl alone, and raising her alone.
Ayabelle, she called the babe, and carefully Yanlen cultivated a child who, though appearing almost angelic in her beauty, was a viper. At the age of ten, Ayabelle was taken to the Wher-Hall to apprentice, and train to become a handler, but fate is a cruel mistriss, and played a nasty trick on the child, for within three sevendays, she was no longer an apprentice to anything, but a drudge. As such, by the time she was fourteen, as pretty as she was, she became a target of sorts, men who were feeing the after effects of many a lusty event that ended in disappointment turned to her, taking from her all they could, leaving the girl sobbing and hateful. Now, perhaps Ayabelle may have been different, had this not happened. Maybe, just maybe, she could have overlooked the words her mother had instilled in her mind. But alas, it was only fate that deemed her to be pushed to the brink of her sanity, teetering over a precipice with no one to pull her back.
Until he came. He who sat astride a great Onyx beast, who spoke kindly to her, who made her, for the first time in her life, feel loved. B'len, he said his name was, and for the first time Ayabelle let herself fall into passionate desires willingly, giving, not being robbed.
Oh what a hateful thing it was. When she learned of who he was, truely, she vanished, fleeing the Hall, leaving everything she had known in her life behind in hopes of outrunning the terrible truth. Though word reached her the handsome B'len searched for her, tore apart Pern itself in his attempts to find her, he never did. A good thing, that was, for she knew in her heart, that he had been the only man she would ever be able to love.
Again, time in it's unstoppable rythym went on, and passed by, finding Ayabelle a ragged young woman, struggling through the world alone, no craft to her name, a stubborn refusal to bow to anyone, and confronted by a dragon. A Scarlet, he was, and before Ayabelle could get a word in edge-wise, she had been Searched. Away she was taken, to Vyrzen Weyr, cleaned and dressed in proper garments, not the rags she had carried before. As of yet she knows not the B'len is in the same Weyr, and it is doubtful either would recognize the other, for time wears on all, and no man or woman can escape the inevitable effects it has on appearance.
Father:[/color] Elban (Wher-handler; Deceased)
Mother:[/color] Yanlen (Healer; Unknown)
Siblings:[/color] B'len (38; Rider of Onyx Honuth) **Will be making him soon**
Children:[/color] None
Lover:[/color] None
Birthplace:[/color] Cothold outside the Wher-Hall
Pets:[/color] Hathor- Lizardhawk: Hathor is a very sweet creature, though she can be protective of Ayabelle to an almost dangerous lever, so long as her owner is in a reasonably pleasent mood, so is the lizardhawk. While she is not so smart, perhaps, as a firelizard, she is more reliable than many in some ways, especially in messages, though it does take her longer. She is a lovely color, a light brown bodice, and ehr wings are barred with darker brown and white.
Other: Dragon said I could have the lizardhawk, so you know Kanpa.
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