Post by Gwynivere Fiennes on Jun 23, 2009 13:51:11 GMT -5
Sound the Bugle now
x
{♫We lose things, and then we choose things♫}
When the Seasons Change,Remember How I used to Be
Name: Gwynivere Fiennes (Gwyn for short)
Age: 35
Race: Witch
Loyal to: Nobody
Family: Arthur and Morgan Fiennes
There's a voice that calls,Remember who you are
History: Born to Arthur and Morgan Fiennes on a rainy Friday the 6th, Gwynivere has always been an adventurous one. Her long red, curly hair often gives her a bit of trouble, especially on windy days, but her chocolate-brown eyes are often able to see through it, and especially through people.
An only child, her childhood was happy, like she imagined most were, filled with cake, stories and play. As a child, her favourite pastime had always been to wander through the woods in search of creatures that she could befriend, and she had on more than one occasion met a Narnian whom she would play with and then invite home to supper. Gwyn’s parents would always entertain their daughter’s (sometimes strange) antics and would allow whatever friend she’d made that day to stay for supper. Eventually, Gwyn had many friends to her name and she likes to think of it as her greatest accomplishment.
Like her parents, Gwyn soon inherited the magic that ran in the family, and it began to present itself when she was thirteen. Her mother, Morgan, taught her everything that she knows about herbal remedies and simple spells, while her father Arthur taught her practical magic, what he said she might actually find useful one day.
On yet another rainy Friday, when Gwynivere was just 17, both Arthur and Morgan passed away from an illness that, to this day, Gwyn does not understand. After their deaths, for a week she went through family records, books about deadly diseases and journals written by doctors, but to no avail. Her parents were buried in the woods near the family’s small cottage, and a small funeral was held. Accompanied by all of her Narnian friends, like centaurs, minotaurs, dwarves and animals, Gwyn watched as her parents’ caskets were lowered into the earth. For a month after, she was inconsolable and for the first time in her life found comfort on the inside of the cottage.
It was after this month of mourning that Gwynivere set out, packing whatever herbs were harvestable at that time from her mother’s garden, as well as a few changes of clothes and a little food. She stuffed everything into her bag, draped it over her shoulder and left the little cottage for good.
Gwyn traveled wherever she wanted to, and remains traveling even now in search of friends, love, or whatever else might befall her on her journeys.
Generally nice, Gwyn tries to do what she can for people; helping them when they need helping, giving them a friend if they need one, etc. However, she can have quite the temper if something doesn’t go quite according to plan, or if somebody upsets her.
Likes: The outdoors, traveling, animals, making friends, using her magic
Dislikes: Being kept indoors, anybody that dares insult her, the illness that killed her parents, being in large crows
Fears: The White Witch
Weapons: Her Magic
To be free once more Ya that's worth fighting for
Sample RP: (As Johanna Barker from Sweeney Todd)
Johanna sighed sadly as she watched her bird friends flit about for what seemed the hundredth time that day. She thought it completely impossible that they could sing day after day and not wear out their beautiful voices or tire of their song. Watching them now with mild intrigue, Johanna hummed along to the tune of their song- she knew it well enough as they'd sung the very same one since the day she'd received them as a birthday present. Lester and Fae had been her most favourite of the gifts that she'd been given by Turpin; usually it was a book to write in, a new gown, or something equally as useless. It was unfair, she thought, of him to keep her stranded up in such a dark room. Even when there was sun (which wasn't too often), the room would still have dark corners and Johanna knew not what to make of them.
"Whence comes this melody
Constantly floating?
Is it rejoicing
Or merely aloaming?
Are you discussing,
Or fussing,
Or simply dreaming?
Are you crowing?
Are you screaming?"
She asked such questions of her birds in hopes that it might shed some light (figuratively, of course) on her confusion. Johanna knew not whether they sang because they meant to tell her something, or if it was merely out of pure boredom that they carried on the same tune day and night. Well, perhaps not night- they were generally very good at keeping quiet, as though they knew who the master of the house was, and what might befall them should they wake him from his slumber.
After joining in song with her birds for a while, Johanna looked down to the street. Ever since she had been cooped up in her room, she had learned that one of the most interesting pastimes was to simply watch the people that gathered in the street. There was always somebody of interest to her, and sure enough, she spotted a young girl looking up her way. Johanna smiled at her, wondering what it might be like to get out of the house and talk to this girl. Very quietly, she took the key to her window out of her jewelery box and proceeded to unlock it. The silly thing hadn't been opened in ages, not even to let a breeze in, and so it was a little stuck. After a moment, however, she succeeded in opening it with very minimal noise. Hurriedly, she gestured the girl over.
"My name is Johanna," she said as loud as she dared to. "I couldn't help but notice that you were looking up here, and I felt obliged to warn you that my... father," she hesitated, for she knew that he wasn't her real father, nor would she ever wish him to be, "doesn't take kindly to people staring. Oh, but how I would love you to stay and talk! I've not had company in years!" Johanna called down to the girl, sighing slightly at the end of each phrase. She was not accustomed to raising her voice even the slightest, especially given the fact that she rarely even spoke at all. It was a great effort, but she thought that she had done well. "Please... he can be a bit harsh when it comes to punishments... and oh how I would hate to be the reason for harm to come to you," she said before closing her window quietly, locking it again, then putting the key back in its quarters. Johanna felt terrible for not having talked to the girl some more, but like she'd said, she would feel a great amount of remorse if Turpin decided to harm the poor girl- she looked to be about her age... perhaps a little older.
Johanna smiled at the girl again, then made a small gesture with her hands as though to shoo her away. She hoped that the girl would not take it offensively, as she had known others to believe that she, Johanna, thought herself higher-up than them and therefore found it suitable to treat them as such.
Custom Title: The Wandering Witch
How did you find us: Proboards Support
RP Experience: About six years collectively as various Harry Potter and other characters.
Password: Bugle
[/size]x{♫We lose things, and then we choose things♫}
When the Seasons Change,Remember How I used to Be
Name: Gwynivere Fiennes (Gwyn for short)
Age: 35
Race: Witch
Loyal to: Nobody
Family: Arthur and Morgan Fiennes
There's a voice that calls,Remember who you are
History: Born to Arthur and Morgan Fiennes on a rainy Friday the 6th, Gwynivere has always been an adventurous one. Her long red, curly hair often gives her a bit of trouble, especially on windy days, but her chocolate-brown eyes are often able to see through it, and especially through people.
An only child, her childhood was happy, like she imagined most were, filled with cake, stories and play. As a child, her favourite pastime had always been to wander through the woods in search of creatures that she could befriend, and she had on more than one occasion met a Narnian whom she would play with and then invite home to supper. Gwyn’s parents would always entertain their daughter’s (sometimes strange) antics and would allow whatever friend she’d made that day to stay for supper. Eventually, Gwyn had many friends to her name and she likes to think of it as her greatest accomplishment.
Like her parents, Gwyn soon inherited the magic that ran in the family, and it began to present itself when she was thirteen. Her mother, Morgan, taught her everything that she knows about herbal remedies and simple spells, while her father Arthur taught her practical magic, what he said she might actually find useful one day.
On yet another rainy Friday, when Gwynivere was just 17, both Arthur and Morgan passed away from an illness that, to this day, Gwyn does not understand. After their deaths, for a week she went through family records, books about deadly diseases and journals written by doctors, but to no avail. Her parents were buried in the woods near the family’s small cottage, and a small funeral was held. Accompanied by all of her Narnian friends, like centaurs, minotaurs, dwarves and animals, Gwyn watched as her parents’ caskets were lowered into the earth. For a month after, she was inconsolable and for the first time in her life found comfort on the inside of the cottage.
It was after this month of mourning that Gwynivere set out, packing whatever herbs were harvestable at that time from her mother’s garden, as well as a few changes of clothes and a little food. She stuffed everything into her bag, draped it over her shoulder and left the little cottage for good.
Gwyn traveled wherever she wanted to, and remains traveling even now in search of friends, love, or whatever else might befall her on her journeys.
Generally nice, Gwyn tries to do what she can for people; helping them when they need helping, giving them a friend if they need one, etc. However, she can have quite the temper if something doesn’t go quite according to plan, or if somebody upsets her.
Likes: The outdoors, traveling, animals, making friends, using her magic
Dislikes: Being kept indoors, anybody that dares insult her, the illness that killed her parents, being in large crows
Fears: The White Witch
Weapons: Her Magic
To be free once more Ya that's worth fighting for
Sample RP: (As Johanna Barker from Sweeney Todd)
Johanna sighed sadly as she watched her bird friends flit about for what seemed the hundredth time that day. She thought it completely impossible that they could sing day after day and not wear out their beautiful voices or tire of their song. Watching them now with mild intrigue, Johanna hummed along to the tune of their song- she knew it well enough as they'd sung the very same one since the day she'd received them as a birthday present. Lester and Fae had been her most favourite of the gifts that she'd been given by Turpin; usually it was a book to write in, a new gown, or something equally as useless. It was unfair, she thought, of him to keep her stranded up in such a dark room. Even when there was sun (which wasn't too often), the room would still have dark corners and Johanna knew not what to make of them.
"Whence comes this melody
Constantly floating?
Is it rejoicing
Or merely aloaming?
Are you discussing,
Or fussing,
Or simply dreaming?
Are you crowing?
Are you screaming?"
She asked such questions of her birds in hopes that it might shed some light (figuratively, of course) on her confusion. Johanna knew not whether they sang because they meant to tell her something, or if it was merely out of pure boredom that they carried on the same tune day and night. Well, perhaps not night- they were generally very good at keeping quiet, as though they knew who the master of the house was, and what might befall them should they wake him from his slumber.
After joining in song with her birds for a while, Johanna looked down to the street. Ever since she had been cooped up in her room, she had learned that one of the most interesting pastimes was to simply watch the people that gathered in the street. There was always somebody of interest to her, and sure enough, she spotted a young girl looking up her way. Johanna smiled at her, wondering what it might be like to get out of the house and talk to this girl. Very quietly, she took the key to her window out of her jewelery box and proceeded to unlock it. The silly thing hadn't been opened in ages, not even to let a breeze in, and so it was a little stuck. After a moment, however, she succeeded in opening it with very minimal noise. Hurriedly, she gestured the girl over.
"My name is Johanna," she said as loud as she dared to. "I couldn't help but notice that you were looking up here, and I felt obliged to warn you that my... father," she hesitated, for she knew that he wasn't her real father, nor would she ever wish him to be, "doesn't take kindly to people staring. Oh, but how I would love you to stay and talk! I've not had company in years!" Johanna called down to the girl, sighing slightly at the end of each phrase. She was not accustomed to raising her voice even the slightest, especially given the fact that she rarely even spoke at all. It was a great effort, but she thought that she had done well. "Please... he can be a bit harsh when it comes to punishments... and oh how I would hate to be the reason for harm to come to you," she said before closing her window quietly, locking it again, then putting the key back in its quarters. Johanna felt terrible for not having talked to the girl some more, but like she'd said, she would feel a great amount of remorse if Turpin decided to harm the poor girl- she looked to be about her age... perhaps a little older.
Johanna smiled at the girl again, then made a small gesture with her hands as though to shoo her away. She hoped that the girl would not take it offensively, as she had known others to believe that she, Johanna, thought herself higher-up than them and therefore found it suitable to treat them as such.
Custom Title: The Wandering Witch
How did you find us: Proboards Support
RP Experience: About six years collectively as various Harry Potter and other characters.
Password: Bugle
