Lux

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Lux

Postby Lux on July 1st, 2011, 1:31 am

General Information

Pc Name: Lux
Race: Kelvic
Birthday & Age: 492 Av {{19 years of age.}}
Gender: Female.
Height: 5'10
Weight: 110 lbs
Starting Location: Zeltiva


Character Appearance

Having gradually adapted herself to the customs of rat and vermin alike, her appearance is one in which admiration has given amiss. Indeed a busker, an inhabitant of local life you may say, her ivory complexion is often shrouded by that of her dust clad hair or indeed her soil-stained clothing. Born of an unusual heritage, her hair fairer than that of her parental figures, both her complexion and hues of hair are significantly undifferentiated: Give or take the blemishes of mortality (Sickness and sores). Though despite first-cast glances, she is not of an albino genetic structure, thus indicated by the melancholic hues of blue coiled tightly about a crooked iris. An overexposure to sunlight merely deepened the bleached pigments of her hair, thus creating an illusively tangled bundle of ivory knots, atop the sculpting of her facial features. In juxtaposition to the immediately noted: Her anatomical state is less than deemed healthy, thus it is narrow and brittle in it's tightly wound frame, bound inwardly by soil seasoned skin. Much to her dismay, and that of society, it is of an unknown fixation of just how she remains alive: If indeed you can call that living.

Character Concept

Personality- Though somewhat sickened by the Social implications set against her, it bears no mark against her mentality: She was lower than low in the eyes of most and yet, happy to be so. To be low in her perspective, was to be unnoticed or invisible to the attentive glare of those around her. Care-free and bond-less, Lux knows little of the land beneath her, merely the direction she is to walk, or in the more liable case run toward. Despite having known loss a majority of her life, she bears an eerily complacent optimism, which becomes prominent at moments of deep contemplation or emotion strain, in which memory proves to be less of a burden and more of an enlightenment. Though famed in her race to be simple, she regards opportunity to prove her worth as the simplest reasoning behind her creation: in short terms, she knows not of her purpose, but means to find it. Despite the airy portrait painted of her, Lux is submissive in silence (being a kelvic) and is often reserved in her outspoken approach. However, her physicality, towards those closest she can be found openly mocking them in light-hearted temperament, or mimicking them in slight irritation. She strives within herself to find the ingenuity within what is typically mundane.

Ethics

Though unnerved by the concept of religion, Lux often finds herself relating to the Goddess Priskil: Thus the origins of her ethics and attitudes toward life can be derived. Loyal to the idea of a companion, she whim fully searches the ever ebbing torrent of people, attaching herself to them in the eye of her mind. Alas, to her dismay, she has not yet found a significant other. Though as previously stated, Lux is submissive, her outbursts of action are spawned by instinct and that alone. Being of an Owl based metamorphosis, she consistently feels the need to be free from a metaphorical imprisonment, formed by that of the manipulation of those who effectively ''Own'' her. her loyalty lays to the one in which she is to be bound to, not a temporary replacement for said persona.

Likes and dislikes

Likes: Despite the bustling world about her, Lux seeks refuge in the company of her missing other, and the silence of the night. Solitude is often regarded as an act of isolation or segregation from the multitude of society, in that it is a selfish and personal act of confinement from the world. However, Lux perceives this ideal to be soothing. The world about her being too complex or dramatised for her simplicity, she enjoys nothing more than trapping bugs and examining them from her jar, residing in the company of her befriended song-bird, and piping a tune from the flute in which she inherited from her late father. She enjoys separating and thinning the idealistic treasures of the world, and revealing them for the simplicity that resides within them. In short: Lux enjoys life.

Dislikes: A majority of her dislikes stem from the common placed assumptions and stereotypes of society, around her. A multitude of these can be considered: Mediocracy, Low intelligence, lack of mannerisms or social commodities and lack of awareness. Any self-doubting implications are disliked by Lux. She dislikes common fears too, such as: Loneliness, Isolation, Loud noises and Cats. But on the whole, her deepest hues of displeasure congregate into a solidified hatred at the uttering of Murder, injustice and mostly, Power. Her most common found dismissal to such displeasures is often aired as: ''Little boys playing with daddy's toys.'
'

Character History

Raised by one Medea Angarda and Sylvester Angarda, both of which whom belong to a Kelvic background, her childhood was one of a traveller. Simplistic and somewhat average, her life danced along the tune of tin basin banging, and copper clicks. Backyard band days were always best, her next-to-best dress scuffed with the red ash of another desert road, cracked in it's dry heaving, hardly breathing motion. It would seem the hues of red clay clinging to her heels, glazed over her flesh in an ever flickering ritual, as she darted about the fire in an attentive tempo. Most nights, atop the moss encrusted rooftop of their shabby travellers keep, she watched the moon bleed it's melancholic light into an otherwise untamed sky. It was much, much simpler back then. Despite the wounds of social segregation still prominently running across the land, she took no notice of such segregations. And why should she? She'd have no part in it. Pacifist in her nature, she had not yet tasted the bitter sting of vengeance. And yet, it was sooner dawning on her than she should have liked to imagine. Known for some months to have been tracking Medea, was the likes of Feline fashioned Kelvics. tailored in their genetics to be obscenely flexible, both in mentality and physicality, it would seem her previous bonds took much regret in her freedom. Kitty wanted the birdy back in her cage. And so it was to be. Pursued for a total of 7 months, Medea conversed with her true bonded beloved, confiding to him the secretive fears that trembled beneath her ribcage in the silence of the night. Lux noted the hang of her fathers head, and instantaneously recognised a flaw in an otherwise flawless scenario. And so, her attentive nature lead her to the truth. In the hottest night of that season, she pursued her mother at midnight, whom had strayed from the path she herself had set. And just as the moon was to bleed and birth to the night, her mother was to birth the first taste of vengeance, to stain her daughters hands. At the foot of a solitary tree, which was encased in a rockery and foliage folded glade, her mother was killed by the man she had once proclaimed her love unto. Clutching the head of her now life-less mother, Lux watched on as the effective leader of said family, kissed his unwed lips to hers with a: ''Look what the cat dragged in. You shouldn't have left Medea. You lived a fool, and so you die a fool.'' An eruption of laughter filled the enclosed environmental tomb of her mother, as her corpse was thrown across a limply laying rock. The congregation of crooks departed, as the tear-glazed vermilion of Lux's cheeks rose from the bush in which she'd been hiding. Gasping out in rasps of ripped breathing, she stumbled across to her mother, to collapse aside her. Manipulating her heavy and limp form, she struggled and whimpered at the weight of her mother, crushing her arms. Relentless to leave her, she lay her mother, with much difficulty, across the shallow stone. Crossing her arms neatly across her torso, she wiped the salt-less tears from her face, and trembled in silence at her side, whimpering as a loyal canine without a master. Once returned to her settlement, she found no such trace of her father, with the exception of an ink scrawled page and the flute he'd play about the fire: ''It's your world lovey. Your world. Take care, my little light- Daddy.'' Her brows furrowed as her palm crushed the page inwardly, her opposite palm casting the flute aside with a loud growl of defeat. She jumped as the metal whimpered to the collision of a stone, soon to be followed by a stream of apologies and careful handling. It was not so much the flute. Merely the memory. And thustly, she lives on in hope to seize the opportunity so promised in the words of her father, and the love lashed across the desert sand, from her mother. Her duty lays not only to redeem her now lost Surname, but to re-ignite it at the hand of another: A man, her bond.

Equipment:

1 Set of Clothing ( A burnt burgandy coloured cloak atop a loose white blouse, previously owned by a male ''Owner''. Shoddy leather boots, in which her black riders trousers, cling tightly to the formations of her legs and tuck into said boots. A typical and yet simultaneously unusual portrayal. )
1 Waterskin
1 Backpack which contains:
1 Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, razor, soap)
Food for a week
1 eating knife
Flint & Steel
Family Heirloom: Metal Flute

Skills

Bird keeping+5
Escape artist+10
Impersonation+5
Intelligence+5
Larceny+5
play musical instrument+5
Trapping+5
Auristics+5
Malediction+5
Hunting+ 10 (RB)

Ledger

600 G.R.M (Starter Package/No housing)
Jar, Glass w/lid 1 gm
Blanket, Winter 5 sm
Thieves’ Tools 30 gm
Hood, fur 1 gm
Songbird 1 gm
Total: 566GM & 5sm

Lore

The Lore of playful Imitation.
The Lore of Philosophical speaking.

Thread list
A Searat In Trouble [Open]

Find yerself a good knife [Open] [Old Quarter]

''Be as it was, it shall never be again.'' {{Flashback}}

Languages

Common
Bird-Tongue (Bird language.)
User avatar
Lux
Player
 
Posts: 11
Words: 21851
Joined roleplay: June 30th, 2011, 7:52 pm
Race: Kelvic

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