Post by Lucia Basile on Sept 14, 2016 15:42:26 GMT -5
[attr="class","illbegd"]
[attr="class","drpofrum"]
[attr="class","drpofrumtxt"]
[attr="class","ilbgdinfobx"]
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits"]
[attr="class","ilbgdtraitsinfo"]
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]Tradesmith
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]Female
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]20
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]Textiles
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]Alicia Vikander
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]Poe
Lucia B. Basile
[attr="class","dropfrumbodytxt"]
PERSONALITY Daft. That's how a lot of people perceive Lucia. She's a bit of a flower child, a little Disney princess, all she needs is a bevvy of little birds and chipmunks to land on her shoulders and whisper secrets to her, like where to find the fountain of youth and how to climb Mt. Everest without intense training (because, if she's honest, there's only one thing she hates more than physical exercise-- and that'd be allergies). She's a bit of a dreamer, zoning out at any given moment-- and though most only see the suddenly vacant stare or hear the way her words become disjointed before cutting off-- there's a world of imagination that they're blind to.
Incredibly idealistic and emotive, she has a penchant for wearing her heart on her sleeve and keeping her thoughts locked away; because in her mind, it's easier to share feelings than it is thoughts. Kind to a fault, unfailingly pacifistic, polite with no bite, she's not the girl to turn to if you want to start a riot. But she is the person to turn to if you need a friendly shoulder to lean on-- a pair of ears to listen. And, if you'll let her, she'll give advice that sounds much too wise coming from her.
When the time calls for it, she reveals moments of brilliant ingenuity-- ideas that come off as spontaneous, though she's been stewing over them for days, maybe even weeks. Because, despite how warm and inviting she is to the people around her, she's an introvert to the extreme. She prefers the chatter of chipmunks and the garble of a stream over the cacophony of conversation and society.
HISTORY She grew up for a time with her mother on the shores of the River Lys, learning how to ret flax and weave with her mother's table loom long before she learned how to read. When the time came to start school, she took to her books as a fish took to water-- absorbing everything she could learn, and recounting it to her younger siblings with the flair of a true storyteller. It didn't help, of course, when the world started turning to ruin. As the great river started to dry up, and her father's fields of flax began to wilt, there was little the family could do to support themselves.
So her parents took to scraping together what they could, working tirelessly to ensure every one of their children had a fair shot at education-- after all, Madame Basile understood that education was the only hope for her children. Lucia was the first to leave home, attending university with a scholarship-- not for her grades-- but for her art.
From a young age, Lucia Basile was entranced with color. She would spend hours watching her mother weave, barely noticing the odd clacking of the loom-- all she saw were the colors that Sophie Basile pulled from thin air. As a girl, she experimented with everything, from charcoal to mud-- and when her mother realized her talent, she began putting a fair bit of money into paint for Lucia.
Lucia continued to paint through the two years of college that she could attend-- driven by desperation more than anything. Desperate to get enough money to send back to her family, desperate to keep her art in the spotlight, desperate to forget how Earth was crumbling apart at their feet.
Somehow, during the boarding process, she was separated from her family. Shuffled along by the masses, she barely had time to think of what she was leaving behind-- or how she would contact her family-- before she was lead to a cryopod. And then it was just darkness, the suffocating sort of darkness that was at once unbearably long and passed in the blink of an eye. When she'd awoken, taking her first breath, she assumed she was somewhere in the desert. That, somehow, they'd all gone back in time-- to an Earth that wasn't tearing apart at the seams.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS no distinguishing marks
ITEMS
2 small
(optional: describe the 2 outfits brought)
5 large
PERSONALITY Daft. That's how a lot of people perceive Lucia. She's a bit of a flower child, a little Disney princess, all she needs is a bevvy of little birds and chipmunks to land on her shoulders and whisper secrets to her, like where to find the fountain of youth and how to climb Mt. Everest without intense training (because, if she's honest, there's only one thing she hates more than physical exercise-- and that'd be allergies). She's a bit of a dreamer, zoning out at any given moment-- and though most only see the suddenly vacant stare or hear the way her words become disjointed before cutting off-- there's a world of imagination that they're blind to.
Incredibly idealistic and emotive, she has a penchant for wearing her heart on her sleeve and keeping her thoughts locked away; because in her mind, it's easier to share feelings than it is thoughts. Kind to a fault, unfailingly pacifistic, polite with no bite, she's not the girl to turn to if you want to start a riot. But she is the person to turn to if you need a friendly shoulder to lean on-- a pair of ears to listen. And, if you'll let her, she'll give advice that sounds much too wise coming from her.
When the time calls for it, she reveals moments of brilliant ingenuity-- ideas that come off as spontaneous, though she's been stewing over them for days, maybe even weeks. Because, despite how warm and inviting she is to the people around her, she's an introvert to the extreme. She prefers the chatter of chipmunks and the garble of a stream over the cacophony of conversation and society.
HISTORY She grew up for a time with her mother on the shores of the River Lys, learning how to ret flax and weave with her mother's table loom long before she learned how to read. When the time came to start school, she took to her books as a fish took to water-- absorbing everything she could learn, and recounting it to her younger siblings with the flair of a true storyteller. It didn't help, of course, when the world started turning to ruin. As the great river started to dry up, and her father's fields of flax began to wilt, there was little the family could do to support themselves.
So her parents took to scraping together what they could, working tirelessly to ensure every one of their children had a fair shot at education-- after all, Madame Basile understood that education was the only hope for her children. Lucia was the first to leave home, attending university with a scholarship-- not for her grades-- but for her art.
From a young age, Lucia Basile was entranced with color. She would spend hours watching her mother weave, barely noticing the odd clacking of the loom-- all she saw were the colors that Sophie Basile pulled from thin air. As a girl, she experimented with everything, from charcoal to mud-- and when her mother realized her talent, she began putting a fair bit of money into paint for Lucia.
Lucia continued to paint through the two years of college that she could attend-- driven by desperation more than anything. Desperate to get enough money to send back to her family, desperate to keep her art in the spotlight, desperate to forget how Earth was crumbling apart at their feet.
Somehow, during the boarding process, she was separated from her family. Shuffled along by the masses, she barely had time to think of what she was leaving behind-- or how she would contact her family-- before she was lead to a cryopod. And then it was just darkness, the suffocating sort of darkness that was at once unbearably long and passed in the blink of an eye. When she'd awoken, taking her first breath, she assumed she was somewhere in the desert. That, somehow, they'd all gone back in time-- to an Earth that wasn't tearing apart at the seams.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS no distinguishing marks
ITEMS
2 small
- Small box containing 15 vials of Essential Oils, ranging from lavender to frankincense.
- Small wallet containing an old ticket stub, three five's, and a picture of her family.
(optional: describe the 2 outfits brought)
5 large
- Large Loom (complete with other, smaller, weaving tools)
- 200 spools of assorted thread
- Sewing Kit
- 1 suitcase of clothes
- 1 medium sized box stuffed with painting supplies (packed in a hurry, contains 1 half-used paper towel roll, oil paints, various brushes and a collapsible aisle)
