odele [myrmidon]
Sept 14, 2014 7:42:50 GMT
Post by Odele on Sept 14, 2014 7:42:50 GMT
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[attr="class","bio"]NAME
odele
GROUP
ylisse
AGE
thirty-one
BIRTHDAY
september seventh
WEAPON
sword
CLASSES
myrmidon, archer, cavalier, troubador
POSITIVES
loyal, aspiring, thoughtful, courageous, decisive, perseveres, focused, grateful, hard-working, flexible, perfectionist, realistic, reliable, self-reliant, serious, sympathetic, systematic, work-oriented, calm, dynamic
NEGATIVES
distant, impolite, resentful, authoritarian, wasteful, dishonest, covetous, insecure, selfish, pretentious, listless, clumsy, subjective, impatient, short-tempered
BIO
OTHER
FACE-CLAIM
THE LEGEND OF ZELDA, princess zelda
odele
GROUP
ylisse
AGE
thirty-one
BIRTHDAY
september seventh
WEAPON
sword
CLASSES
myrmidon, archer, cavalier, troubador
POSITIVES
loyal, aspiring, thoughtful, courageous, decisive, perseveres, focused, grateful, hard-working, flexible, perfectionist, realistic, reliable, self-reliant, serious, sympathetic, systematic, work-oriented, calm, dynamic
NEGATIVES
distant, impolite, resentful, authoritarian, wasteful, dishonest, covetous, insecure, selfish, pretentious, listless, clumsy, subjective, impatient, short-tempered
BIO
Odele is four years old when she decides that she wants to grow up to be a princess.
Her dream, shared with many girls her age all over the Halidom, is not too far fetched. The only daughter of a wealthy aristocratic family, never having gone a night hungry or knowing what it is like to a to live in a lap any less luxurious than the best money can buy, her standard of living is already in tier with that of the royalty she so longs to be. So she dons her ball gowns, lets her golden locks grown until they're tumbling down her back and are longer than any of the girl's she sees perhaps once a month, and the few times her father has a moment to spare at home, he refers to her as such, deep tenor voice saying, “your majesty” as he bends down to one knee. As her childhood years tic by, she breezes through private lessons on manners, tea ceremonies, more styles of dance than she can count on her little fingers, and if she's lucky, the nice maid with the dark hair at home will teach her how to walk and wave like a queen.
The guests that her parents are always inviting over, the ones the blonde swears she sees more than her own flesh and blood are always making little comments on how pretty she is, on how fine an example of the upperclass she's already grown to be. And while they talk in hushed tones (made off with the fire emblem... fell dragon... happening to Plegia?), she shovels Alfredo into her mouth like a proper gentlewoman and smiles until her jaws are sore. As her family brushes the troubled affairs of the world under the rug from their little girl, all she can think of how close she is. The appearance? Check. The personality? Done. The behavior? Perfect. The only gap between her and her childish wish is royal blood – the likes of which she casts aside; blood is nothing more than a method of oxygen transport through the body, is it not? - and a knight in shining armor, her Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet.
Odele is seventeen years old, however, when something completely different sweeps her off her feet and for all the wrong reasons.
They bring her father home not in a carriage but in a body bag, and the way her mother recoils upon opening it, shields her daughter's eyes when curiosity begs her to look is all Odie needs to know to figure out the cause of death: the Risen. They bury his mutilated remains in the week, and it is this dismal occurrence that finally sends her mother off the edge and into the pits of despair. She waits patiently for her knight in shining armor, the one who will save her from her woes and teach her a love like she's never known before, and shovels food into her seemingly half-dead parent's mouth. It's the day that her mother's lack of a will to live finally gives her what she wants that Odele realizes that Prince Charming was never going to come save her. It's the day that she officially becomes an orphan that she realizes that she can't sit around waiting for someone else to fix her mistakes.
The sword feels cumbersome in her hands at first, but it's just the right sort: the kind that would make a princess flee, putting it back down and never picking it back up, and the kind that that pushes her to master this strange, new art. She hires the finest in all of Ylisse to teach her and devotes her remaining years to becoming to greatest swordmaster the region would ever know. No more would she play the part of the damsel in distress, but rather cut down anything that may come her way.
News of the Knights of Cydonia sparks hope in the blonde's heart that she has not felt since the day she sliced her first practice dummy in two; it was the Risen that took her father, took her mother, left her in an empty house to clean up the ashes of a family she was too much of a fool to try and protect with her own abilities. If the Knights wish to defeat Grima, that would cause the destruction of the remaining Risen, as well. She desperately wishes to join their cause. However, self doubt makes approaching them and offering her skills with the blade more than difficult. Perhaps avenging her family is just never meant to be.
Her dream, shared with many girls her age all over the Halidom, is not too far fetched. The only daughter of a wealthy aristocratic family, never having gone a night hungry or knowing what it is like to a to live in a lap any less luxurious than the best money can buy, her standard of living is already in tier with that of the royalty she so longs to be. So she dons her ball gowns, lets her golden locks grown until they're tumbling down her back and are longer than any of the girl's she sees perhaps once a month, and the few times her father has a moment to spare at home, he refers to her as such, deep tenor voice saying, “your majesty” as he bends down to one knee. As her childhood years tic by, she breezes through private lessons on manners, tea ceremonies, more styles of dance than she can count on her little fingers, and if she's lucky, the nice maid with the dark hair at home will teach her how to walk and wave like a queen.
The guests that her parents are always inviting over, the ones the blonde swears she sees more than her own flesh and blood are always making little comments on how pretty she is, on how fine an example of the upperclass she's already grown to be. And while they talk in hushed tones (made off with the fire emblem... fell dragon... happening to Plegia?), she shovels Alfredo into her mouth like a proper gentlewoman and smiles until her jaws are sore. As her family brushes the troubled affairs of the world under the rug from their little girl, all she can think of how close she is. The appearance? Check. The personality? Done. The behavior? Perfect. The only gap between her and her childish wish is royal blood – the likes of which she casts aside; blood is nothing more than a method of oxygen transport through the body, is it not? - and a knight in shining armor, her Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet.
Odele is seventeen years old, however, when something completely different sweeps her off her feet and for all the wrong reasons.
They bring her father home not in a carriage but in a body bag, and the way her mother recoils upon opening it, shields her daughter's eyes when curiosity begs her to look is all Odie needs to know to figure out the cause of death: the Risen. They bury his mutilated remains in the week, and it is this dismal occurrence that finally sends her mother off the edge and into the pits of despair. She waits patiently for her knight in shining armor, the one who will save her from her woes and teach her a love like she's never known before, and shovels food into her seemingly half-dead parent's mouth. It's the day that her mother's lack of a will to live finally gives her what she wants that Odele realizes that Prince Charming was never going to come save her. It's the day that she officially becomes an orphan that she realizes that she can't sit around waiting for someone else to fix her mistakes.
The sword feels cumbersome in her hands at first, but it's just the right sort: the kind that would make a princess flee, putting it back down and never picking it back up, and the kind that that pushes her to master this strange, new art. She hires the finest in all of Ylisse to teach her and devotes her remaining years to becoming to greatest swordmaster the region would ever know. No more would she play the part of the damsel in distress, but rather cut down anything that may come her way.
News of the Knights of Cydonia sparks hope in the blonde's heart that she has not felt since the day she sliced her first practice dummy in two; it was the Risen that took her father, took her mother, left her in an empty house to clean up the ashes of a family she was too much of a fool to try and protect with her own abilities. If the Knights wish to defeat Grima, that would cause the destruction of the remaining Risen, as well. She desperately wishes to join their cause. However, self doubt makes approaching them and offering her skills with the blade more than difficult. Perhaps avenging her family is just never meant to be.
OTHER
While Odele behaves and speaks in a rather formal manner most of the time – what would you expect from a “paragon of the upperclass”? - those who don't know her well would be surprised to discover that she has quite the temper. The tiniest things have her blowing up, and goodness does she blow up. Simple things, like being unable to perfect something or not being upstaged have her, at beast, digging nails into her skin and biting her teeth and, at worst, tearing hair out of her scalp. Bigger problems have her destroying entire rooms, flipping furniture and snapping important paints in two. She's also got quite the foul mouth, never swearing, but coming just about close. If you're on her crud list, as well, do not be expecting any sort of lady-like behavior coming out of her.
The myrmidon has always been rather ambitious, always aiming for the top, but after years of little attention from her parents and her young mind associating being the best with getting said attention from them and others, it's almost become a necessity for her to be the best at everything she tries her hand at. “Raving perfectionism” is almost a light way of putting it. She pushes herself to the near limit in order to get first, and anything less has her either a raging madwoman for fifteen minutes or an emotional wreck for the next week. Few take winning as seriously as she, and even though she's aware of how ridiculous her great need to win is, it's a habit she just can't seem to break.
Despite how happy she was to be taking so many lessons back in the day, grown Odele has found that... most of them didn't do much for her. After her parents' deaths, her large home certainly hasn't been hosting any parties to dance at, and what's the point of going through a systematic process of preparing and serving tea when there's only one lonely woman and a dozen maids to serve? Gardening, however, has been a long-time interest, and is one of the few things that was drilled into her as a child that she appreciates to this day. Behind the estate, she build a massive flower garden by her lonesome, and finds solace in tending to it regularly.
Yeah, I'll end up adding more as I think of 'em.
The myrmidon has always been rather ambitious, always aiming for the top, but after years of little attention from her parents and her young mind associating being the best with getting said attention from them and others, it's almost become a necessity for her to be the best at everything she tries her hand at. “Raving perfectionism” is almost a light way of putting it. She pushes herself to the near limit in order to get first, and anything less has her either a raging madwoman for fifteen minutes or an emotional wreck for the next week. Few take winning as seriously as she, and even though she's aware of how ridiculous her great need to win is, it's a habit she just can't seem to break.
Despite how happy she was to be taking so many lessons back in the day, grown Odele has found that... most of them didn't do much for her. After her parents' deaths, her large home certainly hasn't been hosting any parties to dance at, and what's the point of going through a systematic process of preparing and serving tea when there's only one lonely woman and a dozen maids to serve? Gardening, however, has been a long-time interest, and is one of the few things that was drilled into her as a child that she appreciates to this day. Behind the estate, she build a massive flower garden by her lonesome, and finds solace in tending to it regularly.
Yeah, I'll end up adding more as I think of 'em.
FACE-CLAIM
THE LEGEND OF ZELDA, princess zelda
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