Post by Aranel on Aug 28, 2015 2:36:49 GMT
Aranel
I don't know where I'm going, but I don't think I'm coming home
BASIC
Full Name: Aranel Aelin
Goes By: Aranel
Gender: Female
Age: 53
Race: Elf
APPEARANCE
Face Claim: Natalie Portman
Hair Colour: Brown
Eye Colour: Brown
Skin Tone: Pale
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 120
Build: Slender
Overall Appearance: Aranel is of average height and build for an elf, though perhaps on the shorter side considering most of them. She has dark brown hair and round brown eyes, and the elegant features of an elf, including the pointed ears and immortal beauty. Her hair falls in curls and reaches just past the middle of her back. She does not dress in Elven fashion, however, but in the clothes common to the race of Men.
PERSONALITY
Likes: archery, adventuring, new discoveries, flowers, animals
Dislikes: solitude, being reprimanded, letting people down
Strengths: generous, adventurous, independent, loyal
Weaknesses: free-spirited, reckless, soft-hearted, idealistic
Fears: not fitting in, thunderstorms,
Overall Personality: Aranel has a very strong personality. She has a lot of determination and when she decides on something she'll work hard to get to that point no matter what falls in her path, bad or good. She hates being alone and will usually seek out the company of others. She secretly doesn't feel as though she fits in anywhere, so it is a bit of a difficult situation for her. Aranel is fiercely loyal and would do anything to protect those she loves. She is a natural leader, though a reckless one, and would run to the ends of the earth if it meant what was best for the greater good. When she gets an idea in her head, she follows it, no matter what the consequence, and likewise, she is a bit too trusting due to her soft-hearted nature, always seeing the best in people and wanting to help them regardless of what she's heard about them; however, if she has proof and reason to believe their folly, she is much more likely to be wary.
BACKGROUND
Date of Birth: the thirteenth day of Ethuil, or the spring season as marked by the calendar of Imladris.
Place of Birth: Imladris (Rivendell)
Family: Father: Herion, elf of Rivendell, deceased at 63
Mother: Merewen, elf of Rivendell, deceased at 58
Other Relations: possibly some in Rivendell, but she does not know them.
Overall History: The story of Aranel begins with that of her parents. Herion and Merewen were adventurous young elves, newly married after Merewen's coming-of-age. They travelled together for a few years before deciding to settle down and start their family. Aranel was born when they were 63 and 58, respectively. However, their adventurous spirits could not be quelled that easily, and so before Aranel was even a full year of age, Herion and Merewen had begun travelling again. They headed to Lórien in order to see Herion's sister so that she and her husband could meet Aranel for the first time. Unfortunately, all did not go well.
Herion and Merewen had just made it south of Fangorn in their travels when they were ambushed by a rogue group of orcs. Herion defended them to the best of his ability - long enough, at least, for Merewen to hide Aranel from sight - but there were too many, and so the young couple was killed, leaving their daughter orphaned.
Later that day, a young woman of Rohan, Annis, was travelling north toward the forest in order to gather some supplies. She heard Aranel's cries and found the young elf baby completely alone and abandoned. It did not take her long to see the signs of a fight, as blood was still fresh on the ground. In her fear, Annis took Aranel and fled back to her village in Rohan, presenting the baby to her husband when she arrived. The two of them decided to keep the baby, and were able to read the name 'Aranel' that was stitched onto the baby's blankets in both Sindarin and the Common Tongue.
Aranel became more widely known as Ari, and grew up amongst several adoptive brothers and sisters on a decently sized farm in a small Rohan village. She adopted more of a human personality than that of an elf, and grew much more slowly than her siblings, who were all married and had children of their own before she had even come of age.
Aranel loved her adoptive family deeply and continued working on the farm. She has only, within a few years, come of age. Her adoptive parents are elderly now, and she stays on the farm in order to help with the daily chores, though she will often leave on adventures for a few days at a time. She particularly enjoys going exploring in the forest, with no knowledge of what fell deed once happened there years ago. Aranel is a free spirit, and may forever be if she is not tamed.
CURRENT
Location: a small village in Rohan
Social Ranking: middle-class
Occupation: farm hand
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE
This is a sample from an old LOTR site on which I played Éowyn (this was the one on my app, and not a post from an actual thread), amongst other characters/canons. If you want something else, just let me know and I can write a new one!
It was a sunny day in Edoras. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but there were no clouds to speak of in the sky. It was still early morning, and the day promised to be a warm one come midday. Éowyn did not notice the weather, nor did the sight of it enlighten her. Her uncle was sick, and had been for almost a week now. He seemed to be getting much worse every day, and she feared for his death. While her brother was often with the Riders of Rohan, making rounds or doing other miscellaneous jobs, and her cousin was tending to his own duties as the king's son, Éowyn was left in the palace to take care of her uncle. Oftentimes she would see that sickly, horrid creature, the snake, Grima Wormtongue hanging around him. She hated the man; she somehow felt as if it were his fault that her uncle was so sick. She did not trust him, and believed him to be poisoning the king. However, she feared him, and could not prove her claims. Her brother worried for her, but these days she found it harder and harder to keep a smile on her face that would convince him to do otherwise.
That evening he visited her quarters and asked her about what was bothering her. For many long moments, Éowyn stayed silent, not making eye contact, her solemn grey eyes instead searching the walls of the room as if seeing and inspecting something that was not there. Finally, she spoke to him, though slowly, and quietly, as if she was afraid someone could be listening.
"'Tis the snake, my brother." she said, looking now toward the door before finally meeting his gaze. "He is poisoning our uncle, I know it. I can feel the evil that he is shrouded by, and yet no one does anything to stop him! Our uncle is too weak to do so himself, and yet I can see that he falls. Why does he allow himself to be tormented so? Too long he has kept his ill advisor. I wish he would expel him at once."
Éomer merely sighed and looked sadly at his sister. He told her he understood her, and that he too doubted Wormtongue. But he also told her that as the niece and nephew of the king, and not the king himself, they could do nothing to stop Wormtongue.
"Then we should advise the king to send him away himself!" protested Éowyn, but to no avail. She knew it would not work- it seemed as if the king had stopped hearing completely, or at least the words of those he used to hold dear. The only words he heard now, so it seemed, were those that were poisoned by Wormtongue. Nothing pained Éowyn more than to see him like this, and to see her country and home falling from his grasp. She wanted to do something, but she did not have the power. She despaired for her uncle, hoping that some good fortune may strike her, and when that opportunity came, that she could finally aid him.
"I will just have to speak to him every day until the mist is cleared from his eyes."
It was a sunny day in Edoras. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but there were no clouds to speak of in the sky. It was still early morning, and the day promised to be a warm one come midday. Éowyn did not notice the weather, nor did the sight of it enlighten her. Her uncle was sick, and had been for almost a week now. He seemed to be getting much worse every day, and she feared for his death. While her brother was often with the Riders of Rohan, making rounds or doing other miscellaneous jobs, and her cousin was tending to his own duties as the king's son, Éowyn was left in the palace to take care of her uncle. Oftentimes she would see that sickly, horrid creature, the snake, Grima Wormtongue hanging around him. She hated the man; she somehow felt as if it were his fault that her uncle was so sick. She did not trust him, and believed him to be poisoning the king. However, she feared him, and could not prove her claims. Her brother worried for her, but these days she found it harder and harder to keep a smile on her face that would convince him to do otherwise.
That evening he visited her quarters and asked her about what was bothering her. For many long moments, Éowyn stayed silent, not making eye contact, her solemn grey eyes instead searching the walls of the room as if seeing and inspecting something that was not there. Finally, she spoke to him, though slowly, and quietly, as if she was afraid someone could be listening.
"'Tis the snake, my brother." she said, looking now toward the door before finally meeting his gaze. "He is poisoning our uncle, I know it. I can feel the evil that he is shrouded by, and yet no one does anything to stop him! Our uncle is too weak to do so himself, and yet I can see that he falls. Why does he allow himself to be tormented so? Too long he has kept his ill advisor. I wish he would expel him at once."
Éomer merely sighed and looked sadly at his sister. He told her he understood her, and that he too doubted Wormtongue. But he also told her that as the niece and nephew of the king, and not the king himself, they could do nothing to stop Wormtongue.
"Then we should advise the king to send him away himself!" protested Éowyn, but to no avail. She knew it would not work- it seemed as if the king had stopped hearing completely, or at least the words of those he used to hold dear. The only words he heard now, so it seemed, were those that were poisoned by Wormtongue. Nothing pained Éowyn more than to see him like this, and to see her country and home falling from his grasp. She wanted to do something, but she did not have the power. She despaired for her uncle, hoping that some good fortune may strike her, and when that opportunity came, that she could finally aid him.
"I will just have to speak to him every day until the mist is cleared from his eyes."
ALIAS: ele
TIME-ZONE: UTC+00:00
OTHER CHARACTERS: none yet...
TIME-ZONE: UTC+00:00
OTHER CHARACTERS: none yet...
THANKS ANNECORDELIA
