Post by Seven on Jun 24, 2020 10:43:52 GMT
Verse:
A Court of Thorns and Roses.
Character Name:
Feyre Archeron.
Face-Claim:
Sarah Bolger.
RP Sample:
The joints in her knees are not meant to be bruised, not meant to kneel.
The palms of her hands are not meant to be calloused, not meant to plead.
The marrow of her bones are not meant to be scaffolding, not meant to hold someone up.
She is meant for the clouds, for the stars, for the sky. She is meant to reach and to take, not to settle. After all, a girl crafted of whole universes, and scars, and storms, is not meant to fall short. She is not meant to be convenient, not for anyone—and so she will not be.
The stars that have garnered to form her joints are not shimmering, not meant just to look at; they hold an unparalleled strength, a weight which is transferred into her carriage. The girl is light, graceful, kind, but she is also fierce, strong, and cutthroat. Those same stars that she is crafted from, the ones that sparkle in her sapphire gaze, are only a facade. Because she’s pretty, she is ethereal, but she is more. And that is the weakness she will use against you, when you roll your eyes and say, “She is here only for show.”
Because she is not.
The hands that stars have flattened to form are crafty, and weighted. Smooth, and skilled. The same palms have fought battles, fought wars, have been deeply scarred in an intangible way. But they are not special only because they are victorious, but because they are strong.
Because they belong to her.
And those bones that were built to shape her form? Those bones, that are forged of iron, and steel—those bones, that were meant only to carry herself? They are castles, and thorns, and war-camps. They were not built, formed, to lift up those who were undeserving. Those stars, the ones that swirl in the whorl inside her, that keep her shoulders straight—those stars know how to let someone fall.
Because their support is meant only for her.
How does she do it? How does a woman, so typically human, carry herself like she is war incarnate? How does she stare directly into Danger’s fierce gaze, and see no place to lay down her arms? Nothing but a place to leave her name, her mark.
Because she is not just pretty, or beautiful. Because the scars that mar her soulskin are not ethereal, not something to kiss and romanticize. Because the stars that form her bones, her flesh, are not enchanting, not captivating.
The spirit that brings these elements to life, this shebeast, half-storm and half-sea, is the true quintessential being that should be viewed. She is where the true beauty lies; where the interest should lie.
Questions:
:: QUESTIONS HIDDEN BY KATERINA ÁKARDOS ::
Preferred OOC Name/Nickname:
Seven.
A Court of Thorns and Roses.
Character Name:
Feyre Archeron.
Face-Claim:
Sarah Bolger.
RP Sample:
The joints in her knees are not meant to be bruised, not meant to kneel.
The palms of her hands are not meant to be calloused, not meant to plead.
The marrow of her bones are not meant to be scaffolding, not meant to hold someone up.
She is meant for the clouds, for the stars, for the sky. She is meant to reach and to take, not to settle. After all, a girl crafted of whole universes, and scars, and storms, is not meant to fall short. She is not meant to be convenient, not for anyone—and so she will not be.
The stars that have garnered to form her joints are not shimmering, not meant just to look at; they hold an unparalleled strength, a weight which is transferred into her carriage. The girl is light, graceful, kind, but she is also fierce, strong, and cutthroat. Those same stars that she is crafted from, the ones that sparkle in her sapphire gaze, are only a facade. Because she’s pretty, she is ethereal, but she is more. And that is the weakness she will use against you, when you roll your eyes and say, “She is here only for show.”
Because she is not.
The hands that stars have flattened to form are crafty, and weighted. Smooth, and skilled. The same palms have fought battles, fought wars, have been deeply scarred in an intangible way. But they are not special only because they are victorious, but because they are strong.
Because they belong to her.
And those bones that were built to shape her form? Those bones, that are forged of iron, and steel—those bones, that were meant only to carry herself? They are castles, and thorns, and war-camps. They were not built, formed, to lift up those who were undeserving. Those stars, the ones that swirl in the whorl inside her, that keep her shoulders straight—those stars know how to let someone fall.
Because their support is meant only for her.
How does she do it? How does a woman, so typically human, carry herself like she is war incarnate? How does she stare directly into Danger’s fierce gaze, and see no place to lay down her arms? Nothing but a place to leave her name, her mark.
Because she is not just pretty, or beautiful. Because the scars that mar her soulskin are not ethereal, not something to kiss and romanticize. Because the stars that form her bones, her flesh, are not enchanting, not captivating.
The spirit that brings these elements to life, this shebeast, half-storm and half-sea, is the true quintessential being that should be viewed. She is where the true beauty lies; where the interest should lie.
Questions:
:: QUESTIONS HIDDEN BY KATERINA ÁKARDOS ::
Preferred OOC Name/Nickname:
Seven.