Post by Surka Rovesdottar on Jun 24, 2009 22:28:30 GMT -5
b e h i n d . t h e . m a s k
Name: Damekarina
Age: Between 15 and 18
Gender: If you can’t guess from the name, I’ll be sad.
Comments: I’m Dalen’s sister, and have been a text-based role-player for, gosh, five, six years? I’m such a dork.
o n . y o u r . f e e t
Name: Surka Rovesdottar
Birthday: Her family doesn’t keep a calendar, but she was born two days before the Harvest, so she’s somewhere in the middle of September.
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown, wavy, and with the reddish lights characteristic of her family.
Description: Surka is a farmer’s daughter and is therefore muscular. She is of middling height. Her hair is assumed to be long, but as she always keeps it braided and wound around her head (customary for people in her region), its exact length is unknown. Her skin is necessarily heavily tanned, and her face is serviceable, if not, by most standards, very pretty. Her most common expression is a faint squint, made a habit by working in bright sunlight most of the time.
Likes: Spinach soup, the earth, and swimming. She also has a surprising knack for textile arts; spinning, weaving, dying, et cetera.
Dislikes: Personally, she hates turnips. As a result of her region’s culture, she also thinks showing one’s feet is akin to baring a private part, she is wary of traders or travelers, and she strictly eats “nothing that ever had or ever will have feet.” Dairy and eggs, however, are okay.
Demeanor: Surka has a fondness for animals. She is the child who, in a family that totals thirteen, would bring in the baby ducks or the runt of the litter or the broken-winged dove and take care of them. She is not so fond of people. She is very sensitive about her accents or customs- if she feels offended, she generally resorts to fisticuffs. She is not literate and has a vague disdain for books. As the second-youngest child in a large family, she’s expected to care for her parents in their old age, as the youngest is a boy. She often feels trapped and worried and guilty at the same time.
s o . i s . f a t e
Shell: It’s a pale sand-color dappled with darker yellow-brown.
Finding: “Oi wants to go a-swimmen, Mum. Oi got th’spinnen all done noaw.” She held up a handful of the finished skein of yarn- it was even, tight, and thin.
The blockish woman eyed it carefully, a shadowy frown on her face. “Did ye feed th’chickens then?”
“Burr oo, Oi did!” Surka eyed her mother, who seemed suspicious. “An’ th’geese too, just like’n you sayed.”
There was a terrible silence while her mother thought. “Roight, then. Be off‘n with ye. And daont,” she added to the hastily packing-up girl, “be forgetten t‘pick sum burberries too whilst yurr oawt.”
“Yes’m!” A basket was snatched up on the way out.
Surka ran most of the way to the woods were the stream was, following the farmer-made stone wall down the road. It was the main way out of Glasgan, her village. The road itself was well-made; it was level and hard-packed and the part close to the village was even paved in the same stone that made the low walls.
As she came near the stream, about two minutes’ walk from the edge of the trees, she slowed, listening for any signs of people about. If there was anyone near, she would go farther upstream, because she wanted no surprises if she was going to be swimming. Hearing no-one, the relieved Surka headed straight for the water, first throwing off her shoes and socks and wading in up to her ankles. After her run and the heat of the day, she was glad of the coolness on her feet. She sat there on the stony bank for a long time, her desire to swim ebbing even as she just sat and watched the woods.
After a fish decided to bite her toe, she left the stream to wander in the woods. Even though she had explored it much in her childhood, something new always was to be found, and of course it was much larger than what could be traveled in a day. Remembering her mother’s order and a particular patch of the fruit, she began wandering in that direction.
Finally, the sun was half-down in the sky, and her mouth had been stained purple and summarily washed in the stream. The basket weighed heavily on her arm for all her snacking, and images of pie or jam danced in her head. Despite the weight on her arm, her step was light.
With an imperious cheep, a tiny wren exploded from nowhere at her face. She stepped back, and the tiny thing whizzed past her nose. She followed it with her gaze.
“Blimey!”
The wren was perched on the wall, dwarfed by the round, smooth object next to it.
“Blimey!” the girl repeated. “Tha’ arnt yur roundy?”
The wren gave her an incredulous look, a haughty peep, and flew away.
She set down the basket and approached it carefully. It hadn’t been there when she walked past for the first time. It had been placed there, on purpose. For her to find?
She reached out, and pulled back her hand as if burned.
“Burr, yoo want Oi t’be tooch’n yoo!” It was true- the object gave off something- like a heat glimmer on a hot day- but she couldn’t see it, she only felt it. It was like a call to be picked up and held.
Suddenly she was suspicious. “Yoo could be Seek’r treachery. Oi aint stoopid.” She paused and looked closer. Surely nothing would happen to her is she didn’t touch it. “Yoo arr orfully purdee. Like’n a gurt big egg, on’ly sandlike an’ spotty.”
She thought deeply. Surely something so beautiful wasn’t so bad. “An’ iffen Oi be puttin’ yoo in moi apron wi’out tooch’n yoo, yoo cant be a-tricken moi.” Carefully, without letting it touch her skin, she held it in her apron pocket.
All her worries were unfounded. When she got back, her parents immediately saw it as a Guardian’s egg and sent her off to the school on the next wagon out of town.
Surka’s oldest brother, Naton, went with her on the trip.
n e v e r . b e . a l o n e
Name: companion's name. doesn't need a last name.
Breed: Phoenix, Dragon, Gryffin, Pegasus
Demeanor: few brief sentences on the creature's attitude. remember, companions speak through silent telepathy, creatures can not speak human but rather contact the person's mind.
Description: describe the appearance. Copy/paste from the hatching thread is permitted.
picture at: s879.photobucket.com/albums/ab355/damekarina/?action=view¤t=_Surka_inareddress.jpg
