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Llewelyn
Dawn Court Scholar
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Age:

6 [Year 499 Spring]

Gender:

Female

Pronouns:

She/Her/Hers

Orientation:

Pansexual

Breed:

Appaloosa

Height:

16.3 hh

Health:

15

Attack:

5

Experience:

12
Offline

Last Visit:

02-10-2020, 09:48 PM

Joined:

04-25-2019
Signos: 265 (Donate)
Total Posts: 24 (Find All Posts)
Total Threads: 11 (Find All Threads)

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Pristine and regal, Llewelyn cuts a striking silhouette of severe contrasts and crisp lines. Onyx and porcelain coloring make up the Appaloosa mare’s customary mottled coat, with white marking her hind and the smoky black shade overtaking the front, from her stately skull to mid-barrel. A few splotches of black and white leak over into the other’s territory along the femme’s back and midsection, effectively blending the two hues.

She sports a long, leonine tail, easily the length of her body. The tail is adorned with sweeping locks of alabaster at the base fading to black toward the end. The courtesan’s mane follows a similar color pattern, pale from root to midsection before shifting smoothly to black. Ever one to take pride in her appearance, Llewelyn often gathers her mane into two braids, one smaller braid looped into the silken bulk of a single, lengthy plait.

When undone, voluminous locks tumble to the earth to drag across glistening marble floors; and while it is a lovely sight, Llewelyn respects the practicality of binding her tresses - what sort of lady would she be if her mane doubled as a broom? In addition to the delight found in maintaining her pristine image, the courtier loves to adorn herself in bracelets and trinkets, finding that the process of decorating herself is akin to meditation.

Every morning, Llewelyn wakes before dawn - as is to be expected of any proper Dawn Courtier - and carefully applies a band of gold filigree paint around her upper right leg and left ankle. The patterns are made up of straight lines, right angles, and dots, and are the same each day. Then, twin fitted bracelets affixed with small chiming bells (gold, of course) are clasped about both of her back pasterns. Afterward, two gold bangles are fitted about her front right ankle and a thick gold band is placed around the back right thigh.

Once properly painted and prettied, the mare will leave her chambers, but never before then.

Focusing moreso upon the femme’s face, one finds pleasant and feminine features — full lips, shimmering, gold-lined amber eyes — offset by a certain sharpness found in high cheekbones and that ruthless gaze. Perhaps the most memorable, if not the most commented-on feature of the mare is the pair of twin-scythe horns sprouting from her skull.

Llewelyn wears the antlers like a crown, the bone white appendages curving backward in a gentle slope and armed with scimitar-like barbs near their base. Her crown is adorned with tiny jewels; rubies and garnets in the shape of tears swinging from gold rings that were bored through the bottom of each blade. Kept deadly sharp for the purpose of vanity and intimidation, the courtesan takes an obscene amount of pride in her horns and their ability to maim.

Such ability has never been used, however, as she finds the sensation of potential danger in the place of validated and legitimate peril, a much more intoxicating combination.

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To define one’s existence in as juvenile of groupings as “positive” and “negative” is out of date and nearly insulting. I prefer to look upon my traits as morally ambiguous, wouldn’t you agree?

Oh, and its Llewelyn. Loo-WELLE-inn.”


Machiavellian. Guileful. Refined. Petty. Condescending. Observant. Courtly. Haughty. Confident. Unwavering. Ambitious.

Llewelyn is loath to describe herself in words, preferring to leave a more mercurial impression.

And mercurial she is; the mare rejects the concept of predictability in every aspect of her life save for her looks, which she maintains with an almost obsessive consistency. One moment, she is jovial and laughing, almost matronly in her interactions, then, any inconsequential thing could happen and send the mare into a spiteful spiral of waspish comments and backhanded compliments. A tempest of a woman, Llewelyn is well versed in the life of a socialite and has taken it upon herself to become the apex example of courtly lifestyles.

Keeping herself abreast of fashion and intrigue with such a commitment that she often has knowledge of events and gossip mere moments after they occur, Llewelyn prides herself in being a keeper - and dispenser - of secrets.

Critical and cold, imperious and wry, the courtesan keeps few individuals in her circle, and even those select individuals hardly know much about the mare; many feel close to the charismatic young starlet, but she feels close only to herself and the secrets she keeps.

Despite the rush of gossip and intrigue, Llewelyn strives to maintain a flawless image of both ruthlessness and nearly holy regard amidst her peers. Imagery of golden trim within a temple, winged cherubs, and claws hands clutching stilettos and crucifixes come to mind where the maiden is concerned. She keeps her venom locked tight between grinning teeth, dispersing it in small enough amounts to leave those around her guessing if she really meant it, or if they were the ones reading too far into an off handed comment.

Control is what she is after, and control is what she shall have. Timeless in her own sense of self and loyal only to her own interests, Llewelyn understands that her lifestyle is of a dying art; whispers in darkened throne rooms and gasps behind tapestries are a thing of the past - its archaic in it’s inability to bring the fighting to the front.

But she refuses to loosen her grip on the reality that she has built. Her world is one of silks and scythes, fangs and filigree, and it is one that she rules viciously from upon high. Nestled within the tiny cracks between femininity and propriety lay something dark and ravenous, whose talons rasp against the glistening underbelly of that damnable glass ceiling. She may be confined within the expectations of her sex and her station, but weapons can be found in the most unexpected places.

She is not so easily fought

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Birthed into marble and gold, raised amongst porcelain and pearls, living within gems and intrigue.

From the moment she was born, she was groomed for a fate that she has since convinced herself that she chose. Refined and elegant, etiquette was instilled within her before she was able to run or speak on her own - and if the rigid rules of fillies were to be followed, she wouldn’t be speaking or running on her own in some time regardless. Postured, poised, pompous, princess, pretty, prim, and proper - the “p” words for what she was raise to be were her favorites.

Her mother was a distinguished lady from another kingdom, her father much the same in societal stature, but serving as advisor to some lord or another. The pair were influential despite their lack of holdings or armies, and Llewelyn learned early what sort of power could be derived from words. Early in life, Llewelyn was sent to live in one of the manor wings reserved for courtiers within the citadel. Her apartments quickly transformed into a space of luxury and learning, lined with painstakingly illustrated tomes and scrolls coupled with plush rugs and pillows strewn tastefully about the trio of rooms.

There, she learned the art of being a scribe and a sleuth; how to seek out knowledge where knowledge didn’t want to be found, and how to use that knowledge to her advantage in small, carefully planned ways. Mother and Father, their manor home located somewhere near the edges of the citadel’s sprawling grounds, were proud of their daughter, though they remained just as cold and imperious from a distance as they had during every other time in the mare’s short lifetime.

Often, they exchange letters, Mother or Father - or, more often, one of their own scribes - penning a long winded diatribe preaching of the importance of etiquette or artfully exposing the risqué maneuvers of some noble or another. She never did grow close to either parent, and as their travels and sabbaticals grew longer and more frequent, the letters grew shorter. Llewelyn grew to understand that nothing changed except what had to, and that she would only ever need herself.

And so it was, the fair maiden recording the secrets of many within her endless tomes and providing society with yet another debutante.

Active & Parvus Magic

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HOW WE CRAVES IT





Passive Magic





Bonded





Armor, Outfit, and Accessories

- gold filigree paint patterns on left front ankle and right upper leg
- gold band on right upper back leg
- twin bands with small round bells on both back pasterns
- two gold bangles around front right pastern
- a series of rubies and garnets hanging from tiny gold hoops looped through small holes bored through the bottom sides of each horn.. the gems will intermittently emit the sound of barely-discernible whispers, as if you’ve evoked a truckload of gossip by wearing that. ;)
- When the weather permits, Llewelyn can be found wearing a luxuriously thick velvet and wool cloak dyed a deep emerald. The clasps are golden rivets connected to a golden cloth cord and can be adjusted for the mare’s comfort.
- In addition to her cloak, Llewelyn possesses a small kit consisting of a glass jar of golden filigree paint and a mink hair brush - she uses these items to paint the designs about her upper leg and ankle.


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I am soft and full of rage.

Played by:

Eris (PM Player)

DeviantArt:

Mallodium    //   

Discord:

Eris#0540

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