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| The Snow Wolf; Iona Shaw | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 14 2009, 10:02 PM (189 Views) | |
| The Storyteller | Nov 14 2009, 10:02 PM Post #1 |
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~:: Vita Vitale ::~ Character Basics Name: Iona Aisla Shaw Iona (Eye-oh-nah) meaning "A lonely Island" Aisla (Eye-lah) meaning "Rival" or "Bird" Shaw is derived from an Anglicisation of the Gaelic personal name Sitheach meaning "wolf". The Gaelic names for the clan are Na Siach (feminine), or Mhic Sheaghd (masculine). Age: 25 Title: 5th Baroness Strathmore Chieftain of Clan Shaw Birthday: 21 December Gender: Female Family House: Clan Shaw (Father), House De Bourgh (Mother) Marital Status Single ~:: Più Profondo ::~ Character Description Appearance: ![]() A daughter of noble blood, Iona wears the most regal manner possible, from the words she chooses to speak, to her carriage. Petite and slender, she lacks the soft and sensual curves of many women her age; she is lithe and elegant, but not what any red-blooded man would desire. Her proud back exaggerates the thinness of frame and lack of stature. Some claim there is an arrogance about her, a sense of superiority she does not recognize. Her face is not beautiful in the sense of a woman, although she is undoubtedly attractive. Her skin is sun-kissed tawny, wholesome, and generally unblemished although a faint white scar lines her brow, remnant of a childhood fall. In sharp contrast are dark waves neither black nor brown, but a lovely combination of both, with fiery highlights that give it a red impression in certain lights. Her nose is straight and sharp, her cheekbones high, and she bears arched eyebrows that hint at her scorn for the world. Her jaw is a touch too square. Her eyes are the green of deep forests, of mosses and growing things, in which emotion is seldom displayed. In her lips are found her most sensual, feminine feature, soft and ripe. Iona's dresses are cold, although as luxurious as her family can afford, opting for greys, purples, blues. They are simplistic and do little to allude to the non-existent curves. She might almost be some marble statue of an ancient queen or ruler. Personality: Iona is, undoubtedly, strange. She is frankly like few other women, with her frost demeanour and sometimes lack of clear emotion. Although she knows she will never rule a country, there is no doubt that she could do the job well. Combining diplomacy, intelligence, and a somewhat quiet nature, she is the least likely candidate to act rashly, or be governed by her heart. She is polite, and yet sometimes can put the backs up of her social inferiors with her cool, offhand ways. She has true respect and love for perhaps only one person, the Emperor. During her childhood, he was her idol, her best friend, and the music of her heart. As such she has learnt some of his traits; sentimentality and caution. However, she failed to pick up his winning manner and charm, distancing herself slightly from other people. She doesn't seem like a woman who needs many friends and admirers; she keeps her own counsel. As a noble, she succeeds, as a woman, she fails. She has never had the gift of merry chatter or idle flirtation; she is blunt and although she cloaks awkwardness under an icy veneer, is not so self assured as she seems. As a child, Iona was never pretty or feminine, nor had many friends. She preferred her ladylike studies, her books, the company of Kenai and the servants. She recognised early that she was unlike other easy-going, likable children and so set about to make herself willingly cold and unemotional. Aside from reading, she also privately enjoys music and art...two things that bring her alive more than anything else. Embroidery, plant cultivation and singing are particular loves. She possesses a sweet, love voice. What is seen by the majority is not necessarily what lies beneath. No hint of her awkwardness or sometimes low self worth is ever displayed. She does not squander her time on sycophants. Although nearly all have a degree of respect for her, despite her gender, there are certainly those who mock her with the title of 'Ice Princess'. ~:: Cose Sottostanti ::~ Character Background Native Tongue: Scots-Gaelic Family Ties: Father: Lord Angus Adam Shaw of Tordarroch, 4th Baron Strathmore {deceased} Mother: Lady Aoife Seraphin de Bourgh, heiress of the De Bourgh fortune. {deceased} Uncle: Lord Alasdair Malcolm Shaw, Thane of Tordarroch, Uncle: Lord William Aramis de Bourgh, Earl of Antiquaine Aunt: Lady Cataline Ophelia de Bourgh, Countess of Antiquaine Cousin: Coriaclich Scaith Shaw of Rothiemurchus Cousin: Emperor Kenai Darkwater of Brennor. Cousin: Emperor Mark Brendon of Zurthan. Micheal Soban. Family Status: Noble Personal History: Iona, quite frankly, made an ugly baby. It was a story which was related to her several times when she was old enough, a story which perhaps might have done her better never to hear. Upon her birth, a unwelcome one at that, for girls were not meant to inherit the clans, she had not been quite the child to coo over. With her dark, staring eyes and stubborn features, she was different. But such things were shrugged off; of course the child would be prettier when she was a little older. Nevertheless, that little older was a long time in the coming. The girl had a precocious seriousness to her; in everything from learning to walk to later, learning her studies, she never seemed very much like a child. Seldom did a gurgle of laughter escape her lips, and she failed to make many friends. Her father was a busy man and her mother was an ambitious woman, not content to marry a 'country squire' in her opinion. As a result, Iona did not have much to bond her to her parents, though it was her Uncle who oversaw her care and education. The only other child Iona truly bonded with was Kenai, the future Emperor, three years her senior, she spent the first fifteen years of her life at least idolising him, and following his every movement. While she grew under his companionship, she eventually learnt not to follow him all the hours sent, but he was still the only one who she is ever her natural self around, dropping her shield of frost to become what could be called an entirely different person. They were inseparable until her sixteenth year, his nineteenth, and he offered her first kisses and gentle embraces. This did not please the Baroness, and soon the two were forbidden from seeing one another again. What was it that caused the shield to be created, that veneer of emotionless cold? Her difference started it, although only in part. When younger, Iona ~or Io, as she might be affectionately called~ would watch the other children with golden hair and merry personalities, and wish to be a little more like them. By other children she was treated separately, never truly joining in their games and chatter. She lacked what she perceives as Kenai's winning charms, and instead of rectifying this, chose to play upon it. If she was to be treated as an outsider, then she would be an outsider. She is not a total loner, however, and does wish to make a few close acquaintances. And so over the years, she trained herself to be independent of other people, willing and able to be alone. In the last four or five years she has grown into her looks considerably- still not pretty, but striking. She has yet to be betrothed, as the Baroness cannot find a husband of suitable stature for her daughter, and Iona herself has yet to find a man that she is comfortable with. Iona has no real feeling towards married, perceiving it as something necessary, and she is not ignorant to the knowledge that as a woman, she should have been married by now. The opposite sex are not her strong point- or are people in general, come to that- and she has never been the recipient of flirtation or desire. What man, after all, desires a woman more emotionally masculine than he is? ~:: La Maschera ::~ Role-Playing Sample It warmed to the cockles of her heart to play. Alone in her bedchamber, curled on the sill of the impressive open window, she felt content. This- ah, but this was what she loved! Here her passion lay, here she was no longer the ice princess of formality and condescension. No, here she was Io, a minstrel performer, playing for the crowd inside her own mind. Her long sensitive fingers manipulated the strings of the lyre, producing a strange foreign melody she had been taught long ago. It was simple enough, but she loved it for its ethereal quality. Those long lingering notes were bittersweet and- A shrill giggle broke her train of thought, and she glanced down through the open window, annoyed at the interruption. Although she scanned the area below, she could see nothing. A moment later, however, the source of her annoyance became apparent- a young couple, clearly on some secret and inappropriate jaunt. Iona watched with distaste as the pretty female with her silly laugh steal a kiss or two from the boy. Honestly, had people nothing better to do with their days? “Fools,” she muttered crossly, looking away and returning to her music. The young couple looked up momentarily at the sounds, and the man recognised which royal female sat above them. He whispered to his companion and she gave another short burst of laughter before the two scampered off. Iona, admirably pretending not to notice, could not help but deepen her scowl a little. |
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8:53 AM Jul 11