Lethalia Datura
Dec 16, 2017 14:43:12 GMT -6
Post by Lethalia on Dec 16, 2017 14:43:12 GMT -6
kennel | registry | pet stats | house
art by franknsteins @ dA
name| Lethalia Datura species| Satyr / Humanish gender| Female age| 32 native language| Common stamina| 4 strength| 3 resistance| 3 dexterity| 4 mentality| 3 | attribute| Instinct +survival traits| Cat's Balance Rabbit's Luck Falcon's Grace +1 dex Stallions's Stamina +1 stam Weak Willpower psychic weakness Heart of the Mother | skill groups| Marksmanship Artisan Survival | watsky | Sloppy Seconds sir sly | &Run years & years | King smith & myers | Bad at Love dead horses | Turntable sean mcconnell | Bottom of the Sea smooth hound smith | Dog in a Manger thornley | All Fall Down colter wall | Sleeping on the Blacktop pierce edens| ...thief |
social description|
Lethalia has a boisterous, natural smile and energy. Out in the world, it's carefully arranged as a friendly veil to people watch under, because folks responded to the friendly salesman better than they did the one who looked like they had something to hide.
Though clever and resourceful, she's not always competent. Keeping up on schedules or time - like one might have to do to keep a job - aren't her strong suit. Somehow in her disorganization, she gets things done with logic that is decipherable only to her. Everything happens eventually, if not timely. For some ventures it works out quite well; she learned to play to her strengths early on. People could always forgive her transgressions if she was both charming and her products were still excellent.
Not many know her well enough to notice how she changes when talking to people. She still talks quite a lot, perhaps even too much, all with that unfailing smile. After all, she could figure out a lot faster what someone wanted out of her behind a cloak of kindness. She'll still try and come across as breezy and carefree as she could, but she's appraising people so intensely she can come across a bit terse. Especially if she's gotten it into her head that someone - better looking, wealthy, smarter - might be in a position to look down on her.
Really though, her charm and smiles are all... not quite a facade, but they're all a defense mechanism learned early on in life. Nobody expects the wiles of a teenage girl, allowing her to grow more subtly vicious in a way that meant she could survive among the brutality of traders. Though she would never know, her toothful grin spoke more about her than anything else. Both a customary greeting in some situations, and a scared creature baring it's fangs in others.
If growing up on that Caravan learned her anything, it was that everybody was out for their own interests and would walk over anybody to attain them. It was only fair she does the same; the world is savage, and altruism only puts you further behind the pack. It did mean she grew up self sufficient, and incredibly prideful of what she had accomplished under her own power. She'd fight down to tooth and hoof, anybody who tried to take away what she'd earned.
Clearly, her upbringing brought about a lot of anxiety problems that would remain unacknowledged. She'd be a much happier person if she dealt with it - the constant worry about what was to come next, if the people she spoke with wanted some part of her, where her next failure might be. Instead, it's left bound tight and shrugged off as a simple 'prey instinct' even amidst anxiety attacks. This is fine.
As one might expect, her personality 'quirks' don't lend well to creating or maintaining relationships. More in love with the idea of being in love, than anything else. Her most successful relationships are long distance in nature; the kind you're not especially expected to keep up appearances with. Nevertheless, she's never stopped being in love with the concept of being in love - usually to her detriment.
She might not acknowledge the mental chains that left her fettered, but one thing she knows is that she loves and trusts animals and children more than other adults. Her patience with them is near endless, likely the only time her guard is down. One can really see Lethalia at ease, lessons of the past held far at bay when at play with a little one of any species. Alone, working with the creatures? The closest thing to a quiet mind as she'd ever experienced before. Why, she's even gotten kind of okay at training in the process of just wanting to be alone with creatures more often than people. Even the most monstrous creatures couldn't hold a candle to how insidious the average person is.
she does not have issues, thank you
physical description|
A little over six foot tall, Lethalia appears to tower all the more for the crest of her horns and volume of corkscrew curled hair. Skintone is a deep sepia, littered with darker freckles across her shoulders and cheeks from the sun, the lighter peals of scars in various stages of healing just as expansive. Toned and wide in the shoulders from a life of work, her thick thighs and soft belly soften an otherwise hardy appearance.
Ridged black ram's horns sprout from her temples just before the hairline, curling above her ears lopsidedly. Her hair is a deep rich coffee color, peppered with both strands of black and sun bleached streaks. It's naturally kinky-curly wound and left in it's natural halo of curls around her face. Occasionally, like when swimming, one might witness her mane in rows of protective braids. Though her ears are in the normal humanoid placement with a gentle point that could make them look elven at a distance, a closer look would reveal them to resemble floppy goats' ears much more closely than any fae. Her eyes are hazel, mostly bright grey-green with a burst of bright amber bordering the pupils - which are square and always horizontal. There's seldom an occasion that could convince her to take out her piercings, on both center of upper and lower lip, as well as her septum.
Her satyr legs are stocky and covered in fur much like her hair, curly and brown. The fur stops around her knee in the front, and continues up around the back of hock and some amount of her thigh. Black cloven hooves are quite large and heavy rather than sharp, with matching proportionally large dewclaws that might poke out from all the fluff sometimes. A small tail much like a whitetail deer, with a similar range of motion would typically poke out the top of her pants; this also has the same curly dark brown fur on top, and a small flash of white underneath.
None of her scars are quite as outstanding as those spanning her thighs. Three savage slashes travel diagonally across the tops of both legs, shiny and healed but a much lighter skin tone than the rest of her. The topmost of those jagged lines begins just below her left hipbone, the others relatively evenly spaced and running parallel below it. The bottom most mark comes to and end over her right knee. They're not surgical cuts by any means, rending of flesh that had occurred clear in the scar's rugged borders. Three-clawed scarring is difficult to disguise, especially considering how many things could cause it in this city. The better question is, why had she been facing it?
clothing|
Lethalia's wardrobe is certainly interesting in it's depth and variation. For a lady who claims to not want to fuss much over those feminine things, she really does love playing with clothing and jewelry.
She's got quite a collection of shorts since they fit without having to account for hooves or tail. Any of her full length pants have a slit cut up the side to allow for a plate-sized hoof to be passed through, fastening with ties or hooks to keep them snug. Of these she has plenty of variations - flowing harem pants in a multitude of colors, modified jeans, stretchy material with bold patterning embroidered on them; there's very few colors she won't wear. There's even a number of skirts for their ease of compatibility with her form.
Her tops have an abundance of light, flowing linen pieces, alongside also numerous knit tops in both tanks and long sleeves. Strappy tanks meant to be layered under things. Everything in black and white, alongside a glut of the same shirts in the same cut, but in an array of jeweltones. Peasant tunics in a spectrum, plus a little more. There's even a handful of soft cloth bodices to accompany certain outfits.
Leather gear meant for heavier use is also around, largely made by the satyr's own hand. Gloves, pants that can be abused more than the stuff she normally wears, more bodices in supple hide instead of cloth. A collection of arm guards to avoid the welts from a bowstring, painstakingly hand tooled and sometimes painted with winding impressions of nature, as well as often her own pets. Clearly she wears the armguards as accessories since they're stored next to her jewelry; an expansive collection of necklaces in all sorts of metals and lengths intended for layering, more tooled leather arm bands that are less for function than the wider type. No bracelets or rings - those get caught up in work too easily.
Some other oddballs are floating around for colder weather, but she overwhelmingly prefers light and flowing clothing over having to densely bundle up. Flannels in a multitude of hues and combinations would be stuffed to one side for cold weather use, along with a handful of decorated heavy canvas jackets for the more bitter winters. Scarves? Best not open that drawer, it won't be closing again.
There's a chance she purchased a swimsuit or two, even if she'd never owned such garments in her life. Turns out, city folk don't look incredibly kindly on swimming nude around public places.
clothing|
Lethalia's wardrobe is certainly interesting in it's depth and variation. For a lady who claims to not want to fuss much over those feminine things, she really does love playing with clothing and jewelry.
She's got quite a collection of shorts since they fit without having to account for hooves or tail. Any of her full length pants have a slit cut up the side to allow for a plate-sized hoof to be passed through, fastening with ties or hooks to keep them snug. Of these she has plenty of variations - flowing harem pants in a multitude of colors, modified jeans, stretchy material with bold patterning embroidered on them; there's very few colors she won't wear. There's even a number of skirts for their ease of compatibility with her form.
Her tops have an abundance of light, flowing linen pieces, alongside also numerous knit tops in both tanks and long sleeves. Strappy tanks meant to be layered under things. Everything in black and white, alongside a glut of the same shirts in the same cut, but in an array of jeweltones. Peasant tunics in a spectrum, plus a little more. There's even a handful of soft cloth bodices to accompany certain outfits.
Leather gear meant for heavier use is also around, largely made by the satyr's own hand. Gloves, pants that can be abused more than the stuff she normally wears, more bodices in supple hide instead of cloth. A collection of arm guards to avoid the welts from a bowstring, painstakingly hand tooled and sometimes painted with winding impressions of nature, as well as often her own pets. Clearly she wears the armguards as accessories since they're stored next to her jewelry; an expansive collection of necklaces in all sorts of metals and lengths intended for layering, more tooled leather arm bands that are less for function than the wider type. No bracelets or rings - those get caught up in work too easily.
Some other oddballs are floating around for colder weather, but she overwhelmingly prefers light and flowing clothing over having to densely bundle up. Flannels in a multitude of hues and combinations would be stuffed to one side for cold weather use, along with a handful of decorated heavy canvas jackets for the more bitter winters. Scarves? Best not open that drawer, it won't be closing again.
There's a chance she purchased a swimsuit or two, even if she'd never owned such garments in her life. Turns out, city folk don't look incredibly kindly on swimming nude around public places.
