Laroux: Difference between revisions
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:Alignment: Chaotic neutral |
:Alignment: Chaotic neutral |
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:Dislikes: Squirrels |
:Dislikes: Squirrels |
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== Poetry == |
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'''Business as Usual''' |
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:He donned black, his usual shade |
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Slipped on a jacket, old and frayed |
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Worn boots that had seen many winters |
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Picked up his shovel, heedless of splinters |
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:Company to tend, he must make haste |
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With eventide fading and no time to waste |
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The stars glitter faintly, frigid candlelight |
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Owls hoot the low symphony of the night |
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:Humming a tune that most have forgotten |
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He tramples the earth below, so sodden |
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A nod in greeting to those who can't speak |
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Opens the door with a grunt and a creak |
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:"Welcome", he says, in a hoarse salutation |
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"We've room for all with due accommodation" |
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His chuckle is more cough, nay a wheeze |
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As he shuffles back out in a jingle of keys |
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:The guests roll into their luxury suites |
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In a rustle of cloth and rigamortis feet |
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Absent were smiles as dead eyes looked ahead |
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Spent, their host hoisted dirt on their heads |
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:"Do let me know if you've any complaints" |
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Mocking, his laughter escaped through the gates |
Revision as of 16:05, 2 August 2017
Laroux Dejacque | |
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Status | Active |
Race | Elf |
Gender | Female |
Guild | Bard |
Instance | Prime |
Relatives | Caidie, Maxwelinski |
Masked
- Ebony and ivory sculpted into a genderless visage conceal her features in stark monochrome, the false face bisected by a single brushstroke of bright carmine glitter. Deeply etched into the mask's milky half, furrows transform the expression of profound sorrow with a fathomless, pitch-dark lens veiling the eye. Strikingly different beyond the sparkling divide, starless ebony reveals a look of joy conveyed by a blissfully curving smile and an opaque white lens with fine laugh lines playing at its edges.
Behind the Mask
- You see Macabre Laroux Dejacque, Inspiration of Elanthia, an Elf.
- She has an oval face, pointed ears, a polished silversteel eyebrow ring set with a purple crystal that accents tilted violet eyes and a freckled nose. Her red hair is very long and curly, and is worn swept up by a pair of dark iroko chopsticks capped in boneflower-carved ivory and allowed to tumble freely down the back. She has fair skin daubed with streaks of glittering blue gold dust and a slender figure.
- She is tall for an Elf.
- She is young.
- Bright reds and purples are painted in a variegated design down her arms and legs as if a sunset had spilled onto her skin. A set of three clear crystals lines up from the corner of each eye, held there with drops of red paint.
- She is wearing a two-tone mask bisected by a vertical line of lurid carmine glitter, some bone-beaded cords dangling a jungle green parrot feather, some lusterless blackwater jet teardrop earrings, a sanowret crystal, an exquisitely tailored mistsilk opera cloak lined in atramentous moonsilk, a golden firesilk instrument case with bronze corners, a vibrant multi-colored spidersilk haversack clasped with a gold lute, a snug white mistsilk bandeau wrapped around the chest, a steel neithrel band dangling smooth sapphire raindrops along the chains, a pair of graceful black silk gauze haussa seamed with scarlet and gold twined cord, some rich thigh straps wrapped in golden silk and a pair of knee-high white leather boots clasped with cambrinth ravens.
Character Breakdown
Divine: Murrula Kerenhappuch
- Fancies: Masks, of all shapes and sizes. Has an odd, eclectic sort of style.
- Alignment: Chaotic neutral
- Dislikes: Squirrels
Poetry
Business as Usual
- He donned black, his usual shade
Slipped on a jacket, old and frayed Worn boots that had seen many winters Picked up his shovel, heedless of splinters
- Company to tend, he must make haste
With eventide fading and no time to waste The stars glitter faintly, frigid candlelight Owls hoot the low symphony of the night
- Humming a tune that most have forgotten
He tramples the earth below, so sodden A nod in greeting to those who can't speak Opens the door with a grunt and a creak
- "Welcome", he says, in a hoarse salutation
"We've room for all with due accommodation" His chuckle is more cough, nay a wheeze As he shuffles back out in a jingle of keys
- The guests roll into their luxury suites
In a rustle of cloth and rigamortis feet Absent were smiles as dead eyes looked ahead Spent, their host hoisted dirt on their heads
- "Do let me know if you've any complaints"
Mocking, his laughter escaped through the gates