garlusa
RESIDENT RAT SPECIALIST 👶🏻
PINTEREST BOARD ┊| MUSIC ALBUM
CHAPTER 1: OF FLOWERS AND MONSTERS..
.. 01 B I O L O G Y┊˖*°࿐
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⁂|Age:
125 years of age
✧.┊Height:
5’8”, 172cm
⁂ | Race:
Pure of blood, a High Elf
✧.┊ Skin:
Pale, milky white, certainly ghastly in nature. Eeshia undoubtedly has seen hardly the glint of the sun's light. For she
almost appears doll-like in her skin's porcelain manner, the plaguing of oil paints staining her thin fingers. A mark of her devotion.
As pale as the color of fresh cotton sheets, thick and constantly pinned back. Her hair verges upon being a pristine white, but, oddly enough, she still managed to retain her mother's previous blonde locks. The result being an odd, mesmerizing blend.
⁂ | Eyes:
A soft, pale green.
The shape of such bold and wide, constantly observing. They resemble doe eyes.
✧.┊ Brows:
Delicate, thin, blonde.
⁂ | Lips:
Thinly lined into a resting expression. Hardly does she smile anymore, perhaps constant concentration has chained away a bubbly expression.
✧.┊ Nose:
Narrow and pointed, chiseled.
⁂ | Voice Claim:
Helaena from HOTD
✧.┊ Spellcasting aesthetics:
Playing cards link.
.. PARTICULAR TRAITS┊˖*°࿐
✧ Quiet. Eeshia is quiet. Of course when it comes to business, she is more than willing to speak, a forced habit.
But should one take note, she is often locked away on her own accord. Devoting much time to her craft. Isolation.
✧ The painter. Eeshia paints for hours, it is her love language, her vitality, her kin, her sanctuary, very rarely does she use her words, and when she does. It can often be vague. Her paintings show truth, prophecy, that is, if you look hard enough.
✧ The dreamer. Eeshia has a poor habit of falling into sleep rather easily, finding it hard to wake herself. She dreams of many and all, of lands far away, and of home beneath the foliage. However, once she does wake, she often finds herself disappointed.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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.. 02 R E L A T I O N S H I P S┊˖*°࿐
❍⌇─➭ Forbidden things have a secret charm. ﹀﹀ ︵↷
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LOST KEY TO A CLOUDED MEMORY
Hiraeth: (n.) a homesickness for a home in which you cannot return, or perhaps one
that never was. The yearning. The grief for lost places of your past; ..
I miss you. I wait patiently.
THE THORNED CROWN
I don't remember why I am devoted; I believe my mind has played the fool in a tragedy. I no longer can see truth,
only your hand guides me through the haze and fog of my lost wits.
THE SWAN DANCER
Your feet carry you far, dancing like swan feathers high atop a murky pond, and yet, the vines and
thick grime of it all drown you. Time will grow fond of you, soon you will realize this truth.
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.. 02 R E L A T I O N S H I P S┊˖*°࿐
❍⌇─➭ Forbidden things have a secret charm. ﹀﹀ ︵↷
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
LOST KEY TO A CLOUDED MEMORY
Hiraeth: (n.) a homesickness for a home in which you cannot return, or perhaps one
that never was. The yearning. The grief for lost places of your past; ..
I miss you. I wait patiently.
THE THORNED CROWN
I don't remember why I am devoted; I believe my mind has played the fool in a tragedy. I no longer can see truth,
only your hand guides me through the haze and fog of my lost wits.
THE SWAN DANCER
Your feet carry you far, dancing like swan feathers high atop a murky pond, and yet, the vines and
thick grime of it all drown you. Time will grow fond of you, soon you will realize this truth.
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