Handle: Christine
Email: gamecox5989[at]hotmail.com
Description[]
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Birth Place: Lugard, Murandy
Residence of Past 3 Years: Caemlyn, Andor
Physical Description: Michelle has smooth olive skin with high cheek bones and big pouty lips. Her eyes are often a hazel, but when she gets angry or passionate, they have a hint of blue. Her long dark hair, practically black, reaches down to the middle of her back, and is thick, yet still straight. She lets it loose but on occasion will tie it back with a ribbon or two. She wears modest dresses, with a simple square top and that reach to her ankles. She wears simple slippers but prefers being barefoot. She is often wearing an apron from the waist down. Her favorite colors are a light blue and a dark rich red, and often wears those.
Personality: She is proud and fierce and will fight for her opinion, even if she knows she is wrong. Her tongue often gets ahead of her and she can often act without thinking. She wants to be kinder and sweeter, but often finds a bitchy side takes hold if things start to go wrong. She can also be commanding/demanding to get her way, but her way is usually far from insane, and after she takes the time to explain, makes sense.
History[]
Michelle grew up one of three children in a merchant’s family in Lugard. Her father owned a silk shop, selling the finest wares of Murandy. He would always have fine traders coming into their home, selling the most beautiful fabrics, which her mother would then turn into amazing gowns. Both parents were obsessed with money and turning their lifestyle from Middle Class to Upper. So, instead of taking care of their children, they ran the streets, doing as they pleased.
The oldest child, a boy, took up weapons and trained with some of the mercenaries. The youngest child, also a boy, was nothing more than a street urchin creating troubles. And Michelle, being a somewhat good child, wanted to make something of herself and actually be Upper Class, OUT of Murandy. So, instead of sitting around bored or getting into trouble, she taught herself to read, standing outside of class rooms. She watched the bakers of the city cooking the most amazing deserts. She watched her father calculate his profits, and saw her mother stitch beautiful dresses, which she picked up as well.
By the time she turned 17, their family was no closer to Upper Class. Giving up that her family would ever be something, and that she would ever have a chance to ‘make it’ in Lugard, she left home, with her knowledge of cooking, cleaning, sewing, reading, mathematics, and business. Buying a horse with the money she had made through work in Lugard, and packing a few dresses and necessities into a small pack, she made her way to Caemlyn, set on a new adventure.
Upon arriving in Caemlyn, she came upon a small mess. A man had been caught cutting off a purse of a fat innkeeper, and she saw the guards coming. The poor man looked distraught, and she could see that, from his dirty clothes, he didn’t have much. Hopping to the rescue, she paid the innkeeper a smile and a few coins, and the man changed his accusations to calling it a mistake. She spent the evening talking with the man she had saved, whose name was Arath. She got a room a few streets over, and they spent the next few days talking as he showed her the city, and enjoyed each other’s company.
Then one day, he disappeared. He had promised to meet her one morning outside of her inn, and he wasn’t there. She looked in all of his favorite places to hang out, and feared that the guards had picked him up for snatching another purse, or worse. She found a job, and while she tried to forget her friend, he always stayed in the back of her mind.
What became of her hopes and dreams was nothing more than a pan of dirty dishes and a messy apron. She looked for work, cooking or cleaning or sewing, but instead ended up in a disgusting job carrying food to hungry men in an inn. She loathed how far she had fallen. At least in Murandy, she had a proper roof over her head and had hopes that she could achieve something more. Now, she was just a simple waitress and a toy for men to eye.
After 3 years, she was on her edge of breaking. She was working in two different inns, barely scraping by with money, trying to prove herself as a baker, when she found that things couldn’t get worse. The place she was boarding in burned down, and while all of her possessions were with her, she still lost the roof that had been over her head. She had already sold her horse, and feared that she would have to sell her body as well in order to get by.