Stian Eld
Posts : 19
Total Experience Points : 17
Join date : 2012-11-01
Character Sheet
OOC: Saeyer
Classification: Consular
Experience:
    (17/70)
 |  Subject: Stian Eld  Thu Nov 01, 2012 12:58 am | |
| The Basics Name: Stian Eld Age: 27 Element: Health Classification: Consular Birth Kingdom: Glacies (South) Home Kingdom: Sera (currently) Appearance Playby: Claire de Jong Appearance: Stian is a tall, slender woman standing to about 5'9''. Years of hard living have left her wiry, all bones and muscle, few curves. Her limbs are long and strong, her movements graceful but not overly romantic; she moves to accomplish a goal, with very little flourish. Her long hair is dark blonde and most often kept in a braid or some other restraint, to keep it out of her way. While she recognizes that the best way to keep it out of her way would be to cut it, she admits to some vanity on that front. Her eyes are a dark, clear blue framed by thick lashes and her features are fine, pretty to some. She might be prettier if her face wasn't usually set into an expression of brooding neutrality, punctuated with a scowl and the occasional smile. Personality Personality: Taciturn by nature, Stian is often misunderstood as cold or unfriendly. While she can be both, with frequency, she is more often simply inclined to listen instead of speak and has an unfortunate habit of assuming people want something from her. When she allows her guard down, she can be friendly, compassionate and even humorous; above all, she is loyal. She keeps her word, does what she says she'll do, and if you afford her the same courtesy she'll follow you anywhere.
Slow to anger and patient to the extreme, when she does finally lose her temper it results in disaster, both for her and for whatever or whomever has attracted her ire. While not violent by nature, it won't stop her from trying to break her fists on your face. Anger is exhausting for her, though, and burns hot but fast. Once it passes she is often exhausted and clams up, wishing to be left alone.
Stian doesn't follow anything that might be call an organized religion, she has her own spiritual beliefs passed down from her parents. A combination of benign superstitions, ritual and the offering up of prayers to spirits of places, ancestors and other such things are the extent of her practices. She wears many charms crafted for her by family members and some she made herself, for various things. She is fairly private about her beliefs, but doesn't hide them.
Being a Consular is also something she doesn't shout from the rooftops, but doesn't deny. Her status is the result of years of hard work and several very good teachers and she uses it when she can, using it as a useful bargaining chip while travelling: she'll take a look at that knee if you'll let her sleep in the stable tonight and have a bit of your dinner. She is always looking to learn more, about her element and its uses as well as various herbal remedies and alternative forms of medicine. Likes:- snow
reminds her of where she spent her childhood; the kind of nostalgia experienced by someone meeting an old friend not seen for a long while
companionshipshe has spent enough time alone to recognize that she prefers to be
with a few trusted friends; while not easy to get to know, she forms strong bonds and intense relationships with those who get past her defenses fine foodwho doesn't? Stian remembers the times she has gone without and allows herself to enjoy what she has; food can certainly be used to bribe her music & dancewhile she would usually rather not admit it, she has a great love for music and dancing; under the right circumstances (usually involving a celebratory atmosphere and alcohol) she can be persuaded to join in the dancing learningalways on the look out for new knowledge, she is keen to lean new languages, new remedies, any manner of skills she has never mastered and enjoys a challenge Dislikes:- fools
Stian isn't interested in babysitting people who can't take care of themselves, helping those who have walked into a hole everyone told them they were going to (unless they honestly seem like they want to change themselves), people who put others in danger through their carelessness, and many, many others
repeating herselfif she's said once, you should have heard it and if you didn't, its your own fault; end of story sleeping roughshe's done it more than enough and doesn't enjoy it; there's a lot to be said for a warm, dry bed and fewer bugs trying to wiggle into your ears saying no (to someone asking for help)she has absolutely no issue to saying no in general, but when someone asks her for assistance and she has to turn them away, it kills her. More often than not its simply because she doesn't have the resources to help them, but that doesn't make it any better attracting undue attentionshe'd rather no more than three people look at her at a time, unless she knows everyone involved; being noticed by strangers gives her the unpleasant feeling that they want something from her or expect something Elemental Strengths- Healing with minimal pain - Stian strives to be as gentle as possible, unless she believes the person involved has been an incredible idiot
- Flesh wounds, broken bones, infections - these are all things she has trained extensively to heal, taking care of them quickly and efficiently
Elemental Weaknesses- anything to do with the elderly - she can ease their aches and pains, but little more; it is easier for her to heal those who are physically fit, which many older folk are not
- self-inflicted ailments - Stian has a difficult time with those who have overdosed on drugs, drunk their livers into oblivion or other such things; she would never admit it, but it might be partially because she believes they have whatever happens coming to them (this does not extend to self-inflicted flesh wounds)
Background History:Stian's parents were among the first swell of people to move away from Unda and attempt to create new lives in South Glacies. Drunk on the dream of a better life for themselves and their children, they went without question and without thought to the climate they would be living in. They believed in a golden ideal of what their new land and new life would be, a life where they would be rewarded for their unflinching dedication and hard work. It slipped their minds that they were not moving into a predetermined system: they were the first generation, the ones who needed to figure out how their society would work. Neither Valdemar nor Inge were very active or influential in the government that formed, but they tried to support it as best they could.
Their life was harsh, but rewarding and they found a strong, loving community springing up around them. They formed extended families that had no blood relation what so ever, but lived and worked together, sharing the responsibilities of looking after their families and feeding their children. Stian was the first of the couple's two children, born only two years after the formation of the new country. Her childhood was a unique experience, with the freezing temperatures outside and the furlined insides of the longhouses, the vast majority of her friends were adults. There were few to no other children around, so she took to spending time with the old, who were the only ones with the time and inclination to sit around telling a child stories and teaching her songs. She learned the traditions of their families and the beliefs they held, which spirits to ask for rain and which ones to ask for protection from jealous gazes. The brightest points in her memory are when there was a prosperous year and a festival was held, with music and dancing and she was allowed to eat more in one night than she usually could in three days. She remembers light and laughter and snow netted in her hair.
Aron was born when Stian was eleven, after two of the most successful years the colony had ever had; before that, Inge and Valdemar had despaired at ever having another child when it was so difficult to feed just one. By that point Stian was almost considered an adult, expected to take on responsibilities and do her part. When he was born she was given new duties: look after your brother, make sure he doesn't fall through a hole in the ice. She took to her new sibling well, carrying him with her everywhere once he was old enough to go outside. He was one of the few people that could make her smile and laugh any time and as he grew older they grew even closer.
As it became clear that Stian had a great aptitude for her element, Health, she spent less and less time with her family and more time studying to be a healer. In a land with few herbs and freezing gales, healers were in short supply and badly needed. Valdemar taught her all he could before turning her over to the other Health elemented Glacians. By the time she was seventeen she had achieved the status of Apprentice and was well on her way to being a Consular. Her sense of duty and dedication to the people of Glacies was strong and her family had high hopes. She began making short trips into Ignis to learn from those she met, bringing back herbs and new ideas when she could. This happened less and less as the pressure from Unda increased, Stian unwilling to leave her family for more than a few weeks at a time.
Eventually her fears were confirmed. She returned from just such a trip to find her home in ruins and Aron one of the few survivors from their group of families. For some time after they lived in other Glacian settlements, but it became increasingly clear that nowhere was safe. Aron, deeply scarred by what he had witnessed, began to train for the war he believed was coming. Unable to talk him into leaving with her, when Stian left Glacies shortly after her 23rd birthday, it was alone. Heartbroken to be separated from him, she sucked it up and went anyway. Her mind was set on learning as much as she could about the healing practices of other lands so that she could come back and make life easier for her people.
After traveling for many years, she now owns a dapple grey horse named Mercy and is currently in Sera, trying to learn the herb lore of its people. Family:Mother - Inge Eld, Water Citizen Father - Valdemar Eld, Health Apprentice Siblings - Aron Eld, Water Citizen Other - Mercy, her horse OOC RP Sample:It had been a rushed morning for Ezra. The soft pre-summer sun through his curtains had lulled him into a lazy doze, sprawled on his bed with one leg hanging off the side, but a glance at the clock had shattered his calm. Flinging himself out of bed, he made his way hastily to the bathroom and went through his morning ritual at top speed, pulling on a pair of black jeans and a light weight button up shirt without even looking at them. Lacing up his Oxfords, he looked to the clock again and relaxed a little. As long as he walked quickly, he’d still get there on time. And honestly, there weren’t going to be people lined up outside the door to get into his shop. It was more a matter of principal than practicality. He patted down his pockets to make sure he had everything before leaving, locking the door behind himself.
He set off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, the morning breeze reminding him that his hair was still damp. As he walked he unbuttoned his cuffs and began to roll up his sleeves, each one folding neatly up to just below his elbows. If it was too warm for this shirt now, he was concerned about what the rest of the way would feel like. He wasn’t the sort of wear short sleeves to work: he wasn’t hiding anything, the idea of it just made him uncomfortable. It felt unprofessional, but that was a funny idea since he wasn’t exactly the most traditional of men. Still, something about the buttons and the collar made him feel more at home in the book shop; maybe he just felt more sophisticated wearing them. He grinned sheepishly to himself, waving at a car that let him cross the street in front of them, and half-jogged to the other side of the street.
Twenty minutes later he found himself in front of Liminality Books, just as he had left it. The storefront was mostly glass and it was easy to see all the way to the back of the store; it wasn't a particularly large place. No broken windows, no one waiting to go in, just a rolled up newspaper on the doorstep. Tucking it under his arm, he fumbled with his keys and unlocked the wooden door, taking note of the fact that the paint was starting to curl. He should probably take care of that, but not right now. Right now, it was time for breakfast. Propping the front door open with a rock to get some air flowing, he left the lights off and relied on the morning sun to light the rows and stacks of books. Heading into the back room, he filled the electric kettle and turned it on, rooting around in the cupboard for a mug and the tin of teabags he had filled with his own mixes of herbs. Locating the ones he wanted, he set them on the counter and snagged the container of Greek yogurt from the minifridge. Eating it out of the container with a spoon, he leaned against the counter and waited for the kettle to go off.
It had been slow here lately, not many people in or out. There were a few regulars, people who came by more to chat and simply be there than to actually buy anything, but other than that most of his walk-ins were people who didn’t actually understand what kind of bookstore it was. They came in, picked up a few things, flipped through them, came to something with WITCHCRAFT in curling letters, set it back down, and left as quickly as they could. Sometimes laughing, sometimes extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t mind, as long as they weren’t stealing anything. Some of the books here were funny, either by design or because it was ridiculously clear that the author didn’t know anything about anything. When he found those books he usually pulled them from the shelves and didn’t order them, or buy them from people who wanted to sell their old books. There was the occasional stinker, but for the most part he prided himself on stocking a reasonably qualified set of books.
After licking both sides of the spoon and setting it to the side, he put the yogurt away and poured the steaming water into the mug. Realizing as he was doing it the issue with drinking hot tea on a day that was already shaping up to be hot, he sighed and kept pouring; no point in wasting it. He carried it gingerly to the desk-come-register, set it down to cool and picked up an armful of books that needed to be reshelved. Stepping into the shade of the shelves, out of sight of the front door, he began setting the books back where they belonged. Alias: Saeyer
Last edited by Stian Eld on Thu Nov 01, 2012 3:28 pm; edited 12 times in total | |
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