- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- 8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
HISTORY
Arabella Dane was born the only child of Merry Dane - a village blacksmith, taken by the lusts of youth and a whore gone by the name of Eliana. Their romance was brief and ended in a child, left to Merry in a basket. Despite this hardship, never did a father love his child more than Merry loved Arabella. Her childhood was a happy one, and though they never had much, her life was full.
While work was good, their fortune was not, and in time, Arabella was forced to take up employment as a servant, earning a meager but sufficient keep. Three months before her eighteenth birthday, while assisting her father in his shop, Arabella was propositioned by a nobleman. Outraged, Merry sent the nobleman away, but the man returned shortly thereafter and murdered the blacksmith in his sleep, a fate Arabella escaped only after due to the interference of a stranger.
Despondent, Arabella blamed herself, sinking deep down into herself, her focus fixed with near obsessive control on her work. Now, three years later, Arabella continues to struggle with the guilt of her father's death and surviving on her own. Eventually, through hard work and dedication, she came upon employment within the royal household - a servants position, a pittance... but better than her previous jobs.
Then the letter arrived...
While work was good, their fortune was not, and in time, Arabella was forced to take up employment as a servant, earning a meager but sufficient keep. Three months before her eighteenth birthday, while assisting her father in his shop, Arabella was propositioned by a nobleman. Outraged, Merry sent the nobleman away, but the man returned shortly thereafter and murdered the blacksmith in his sleep, a fate Arabella escaped only after due to the interference of a stranger.
Despondent, Arabella blamed herself, sinking deep down into herself, her focus fixed with near obsessive control on her work. Now, three years later, Arabella continues to struggle with the guilt of her father's death and surviving on her own. Eventually, through hard work and dedication, she came upon employment within the royal household - a servants position, a pittance... but better than her previous jobs.
Then the letter arrived...
✾
GENERAL
Name || Arabella Dane
Nickname || Bells/Bella
Age || Twenty
Species || Human
Occupation || Servant
Nickname || Bells/Bella
Age || Twenty
Species || Human
Occupation || Servant
"I have long since stopped expecting life to be kind. Life is cruel and cold and takes far more than it gives... but that does not mean that I must behave likewise. Little is born from bitterness, and I will not disgrace his memory by forgetting all he taught me - Most important of all, to love."
APPEARANCE
Eye Color || Brown
Hair Color || Dark Brown
Height || 5'4"
Weight || 110lbs.
Written Appearance || Oft times overlooked, and no wonder why, Bell Dane is a ghostly creature of insubstantial regard. Pale skin, a near sickly pallor the canvas upon which are painted features of delicate, though nondescript property.
However plain, she is not ugly, but rather sensibly made unattractive by the dirt and grime covered lifestyle of a servant girl and the meek disposition of someone who has lost much at very little gain. Still, prettiness presides beneath the unscrubbed skin and unconscious twinge of sadness.
Hair, dark bronze and eyes forged steel she is the blend of mother and father, elegance and grace, strength and fire.
Her form is that of one less than well fed, but where most who share her position are string and bone, she possesses some strength, fortified in the day before her father's demise. Her wardrobe is typically a simple linen dress and apron, and occasionally a cap or kerchief to cover her head, with thin hide boots one size too big. While traveling, she wears a dark green woolen mantle and hood.
Hair Color || Dark Brown
Height || 5'4"
Weight || 110lbs.
Written Appearance || Oft times overlooked, and no wonder why, Bell Dane is a ghostly creature of insubstantial regard. Pale skin, a near sickly pallor the canvas upon which are painted features of delicate, though nondescript property.
However plain, she is not ugly, but rather sensibly made unattractive by the dirt and grime covered lifestyle of a servant girl and the meek disposition of someone who has lost much at very little gain. Still, prettiness presides beneath the unscrubbed skin and unconscious twinge of sadness.
Hair, dark bronze and eyes forged steel she is the blend of mother and father, elegance and grace, strength and fire.
Her form is that of one less than well fed, but where most who share her position are string and bone, she possesses some strength, fortified in the day before her father's demise. Her wardrobe is typically a simple linen dress and apron, and occasionally a cap or kerchief to cover her head, with thin hide boots one size too big. While traveling, she wears a dark green woolen mantle and hood.
PERSONALITY
Personality Traits ||
✥ Diligent | Arabella is nothing, if not hard working. Her performance, however, is not driven by ambition, so much as it is a source of distraction.
✥ Submissive | She is not one to argue, if it can be avoided. This has both benefit and detriment, as it makes her an effective and efficient servant, but also rather predisposed to accepting ill-treatment.
✥ Kindly | Arabella thinks very little of herself, and often of others. She has a strong sense of compassion and will often times go out of her way to ensure the needs of those around her are met before her own.
✥ Broken | Her past has greatly hindered her ability to form close relationships, as fear of loss nearly consumes her.
Strengths || Resilient, empathetic, a fast learner, even-tempered, loyal
Weaknesses || Weak-willed, self-critical, passive, insecure
Quirks || Arabella typically doesn't like being touched. While to some degree this can make her appear standoffish, she's generally polite about it, and rarely makes note of it, vocally.
✥ Diligent | Arabella is nothing, if not hard working. Her performance, however, is not driven by ambition, so much as it is a source of distraction.
✥ Submissive | She is not one to argue, if it can be avoided. This has both benefit and detriment, as it makes her an effective and efficient servant, but also rather predisposed to accepting ill-treatment.
✥ Kindly | Arabella thinks very little of herself, and often of others. She has a strong sense of compassion and will often times go out of her way to ensure the needs of those around her are met before her own.
✥ Broken | Her past has greatly hindered her ability to form close relationships, as fear of loss nearly consumes her.
Strengths || Resilient, empathetic, a fast learner, even-tempered, loyal
Weaknesses || Weak-willed, self-critical, passive, insecure
Quirks || Arabella typically doesn't like being touched. While to some degree this can make her appear standoffish, she's generally polite about it, and rarely makes note of it, vocally.
WRITING SAMPLE
"You aren't concentrating, Bell... You'll never get it, if you don't concentrate!"
Arabelle woke to the sound of her father's voice, the commanding baritone as deep, as real as the day he'd spoken those words to her. She could feel it still, the grip of the hilt in her hand, still warm from his own grasp, the weight of the steel remarkably light. She'd been at it for an hour, now, sweat glistening across her brow, dripping down the nape of her long, narrow neck.
"I can't!" She'd cried, and known then it was the wrong thing to say. Strong hands, Blacksmith's hands gripped her shoulders with a bruising force as her father spun her to face him.
"Arabella Dane. I don't ever want to hear those words from you again, you hear? There is nothing you can't do. Not anything..."
But it wasn't true. She couldn't save him. No matter how hard she'd tried, she couldn't bring him back.
Tears collected in her lashes, pooled and fell in rivulets along her ghastly cheeks into the hay beneath her head. Beside her, the dying light cracked and popped in the hearth, embers glowing amber in the pale light streaming in from a crack in the wooden shutters of the window.
Dawn crept across the floorboards, pale and sickly light murdering shade and stinging sleep-worn eyes. Swinging gingerly upright, Arabella touched toe to the cold ground and shivered. It was painfully early, but work would be good... work would distract.
Rising to her height, she slid an apron over beige linen and shod her feet. It would be a cold morning, mist clinging to the air, leaving everything damp and chilly. Autumn. An anniversary of sorts. It had been three years since she'd lost him, but the dreams came every night. A vivid reminder of her own failures and of his.
Every year that passed she swore it would be different. Maybe this time she'd get it right. Maybe this time she could figure out how to forgive. How to forgive him. But more importantly, how to forgive herself.
Arabelle woke to the sound of her father's voice, the commanding baritone as deep, as real as the day he'd spoken those words to her. She could feel it still, the grip of the hilt in her hand, still warm from his own grasp, the weight of the steel remarkably light. She'd been at it for an hour, now, sweat glistening across her brow, dripping down the nape of her long, narrow neck.
"I can't!" She'd cried, and known then it was the wrong thing to say. Strong hands, Blacksmith's hands gripped her shoulders with a bruising force as her father spun her to face him.
"Arabella Dane. I don't ever want to hear those words from you again, you hear? There is nothing you can't do. Not anything..."
But it wasn't true. She couldn't save him. No matter how hard she'd tried, she couldn't bring him back.
Tears collected in her lashes, pooled and fell in rivulets along her ghastly cheeks into the hay beneath her head. Beside her, the dying light cracked and popped in the hearth, embers glowing amber in the pale light streaming in from a crack in the wooden shutters of the window.
Dawn crept across the floorboards, pale and sickly light murdering shade and stinging sleep-worn eyes. Swinging gingerly upright, Arabella touched toe to the cold ground and shivered. It was painfully early, but work would be good... work would distract.
Rising to her height, she slid an apron over beige linen and shod her feet. It would be a cold morning, mist clinging to the air, leaving everything damp and chilly. Autumn. An anniversary of sorts. It had been three years since she'd lost him, but the dreams came every night. A vivid reminder of her own failures and of his.
Every year that passed she swore it would be different. Maybe this time she'd get it right. Maybe this time she could figure out how to forgive. How to forgive him. But more importantly, how to forgive herself.
Bless Jihae for the starting base behind this code
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