Post by Deleted on Oct 17, 2014 19:37:26 GMT -8
| Úna Laoghaire Stuart Stupid thing would look nice and full and that you know how much to probably type. Which is this much. |
| CODE NAME: Titania |
| Female | 23 | Straight |
| Irish-Scottish | Freelancer | Civilian |
| Physical |
| 167.7 cm | 56.3 kg | Ginger |
| Brown | Fair | Graceful |
| Personal |
Aimless - Quite possibly the most crucial part of Úna's personality is her is that she has no plans, and simply drifts along with what occurs. She's never rushed [except when there is a deadline to be met in the next few hours, and only then.] She has no goals for the current, no pressing need to meet any sort of rent or food expenses, life just drifts on and she goes along with it. Passionate - When it comes to her work there is nothing that holds higher regard, she takes great care and a horribly large amount of time devoted to simply planning and coming up with new ideas for what she wants to create next or something that would fit her latest client's bill that still fits her unique style. Impractical - More than often enough she focuses more on her work than the reality of the cost of expensive supplies and fabrics, leaving her at times with little to no money to cover her rent or food. This forces her to take up a side job now and then to just slip past with regards to rent money, and hanging around bars so some man will buy her dinner. Sarcastic - Its subtle, and rather hard to detect at times, but when recognized once it's rather easy to pick out again. But until then it's rather hard to tell if what she is implying. Superstitious - She believes wholeheartedly that she was blessed by the fairies for good luck, never worrying how she will make ends meet at the end of the month. She keeps a few candles from funerals she has attended [invited or not] just in case for her burning herself while working with hot glue or a clothing iron, and a horseshoe that she found as a child is kept nailed to her door. She is not the person to come to when feeling ill, as she believes in the power of old folk remedies, always having a sprig of mint tied around her wrist and bottles of May dew on the shelf. Soft-hearted - She can not help but assist those in need, those she pities ones she values over herself. Many stray cats linger outside of the stairs up to her little loft apartment, Úna leaving out milk and food for them daily, and even a warm place to stay in the winter. Explosive Temper - Generally once she ignites it's rather hard to calm her, if it be from insults, other's doing stupid things towards another other, or simply a lack of judgement from one too many drinks. The latter is the best of the situations, the pint sized bag of fury easily coaxed into having another. Yet if there is no drinking cute then heavens help you, because there is a flaming missile of rage armed with utility knives chasing you down the street, and if you set her off then you damn well deserve it. Overambitious - She often reaches far too high, with far too little time to achieve it, setting goals that are hardly reasonable. Failure is the what she meets first, but Úna is devoted, trying time and time again until she reaches it. Some might see this as madness, but for her there is no other way than to try and try again, learning from each one of her mistakes until it's done just right. Modest - From her simple way of dress to her way of speaking it's quite clear that she is not fond of the limelight or too much attention, preferring to stand off to the side and observe rather than spend time taking complements and critique. For this reason she keeps the comments section on her online portfolio closed. Open - She's very outgoing and cheery, not hiding any specific secrets from people or keeping behind closed doors. Úna isn't shy, walking right up to people to let them know that they're shit is misbuttoned or their shoes untied, and then drifting off into a conversation about how the weather is far nicer compared to the day prior. Just...Úna? - She'll do odd things for no reason other than to do them, not speaking for a month and only communicating by writing in a sketchpad to see what it's like to be mute, or keeping strictly Halal or Kosher for a while just to understand how people could live like that. |
| Likes | Dislikes |
Nature: As a child she wandered off into the woods often enough due to the tense situation at home and her mother's distress, feeling calm and at home with the smell of dirt and vegetation around her. Aes Sídhe: Folklore fascinates her, and she believes in their existence whole heartedly, that they had saved her as a child and blessed her with good fortune for the rest of her life. She takes special care to not anger them, and takes trips out to the country to look and leave little tokens of her affections. Fashion: She finds that high fashion doesn't suit her well, but she still enjoys keeping up with glamorous and elaborate Avant Garde looks, and making such looks [specifically wedding dresses] on commission for a hefty fee. Drinking: She finds it therapeutic, and secretly gives credit in the case of her more outlandish ideas to dreams she had after passing out. Úna can really hold her liquor though, and an invite to drinking with her an be a little more than most people would like to chew off. Movement: She can't stand for everything to be still, her skirts have to be light and airy so they swirl around her ankles as she walks, and the window always has to be open so she can feel the breeze caress her cheeks. She can be still when she's dead. | Stingy People - If you don't pay your round, you're nothing but lowly trash and belong off in the dumpster, she'll even help put you there. Weak Tea - If you can't brew a good cup there's more than a few little parts of your brain you're not using. This dislike also branches out to just bad tea. Dry Heat - In the snow she can wear thick woolen sweaters and leather boots, in the rain there's rubber boots and ruffled umbrellas. But the heat has nothing to offer but firey death. People who brag-Whatever, no one cares how much you make unless you're sitting up at the bar buying rounds for the whole pub. That's the only time that your paycheck will ever come into question. Being Rushed - She'll get there when she gets there, the more you push the more likely she'll shove a fist through your face in frustration. |
| Dreams | Fears |
To take over the flowershop - Since the nice elderly couple doesn't have any children interested she hopes that one day they'll grow to love her enough like actual parents and hand it over to her. Sure she's not the most savvy when it comes to finances, but she can always survive by hiring or marrying someone who could manage such things. Something will always happen to fix it, no worries. Have her mother apologize - She's hardly one to live in the past, but it's something she's fantasized over time and time again, hoping that it would happen one day. Why? So she can slam the door in her face and finally drop the rest of her emotional baggage. Make a home - She wants one to call her own, with a white washed fence and ivy growing up the side of a brick cottage in the country. A husband, children, a dog, Una wants to start a life of her own, and feel comfortable with someone's arms wrapped warmly around her. | Hamish Overdosing -Her relationship with her brother might not be the best, they might not have warm moments in the firelight and cry on each other's shoulders, but he's already been so far it would be a pity if he ruined it with a mistake. Not to mention he would be dead, and that might suck. Moonless Nights- As a child nights like these were the most frightening, having to find her way about in the utter darkness of the forest was terrifying, and even if she knew the fairies would keep her from harm it was still unnerving, and she prefers to stay inside on nights like that. Snakes - The way their scales look, and the sounds they make as they move about unnerve her. She'll climb up onto a chair to escape one, even though she has never seen one before. Yet, the books she's seen them described in are more than vivid enough to make her fear them |
| Background |
Mary was twenty two when she started a relationship with an Irishman named Basil, charmed by his rich voice and full lips telling endless lies about his love for her. Lonely and in need of any affection she was drawn into his lies, paying him whatever he needed in order to support him until his big break as an actor while he fooled around with other women. Hamish had been a secret, and when the day came that she felt comfortable enough to introduce him with the hope that he would want to become a father to the child Basil left her the next day. It was not until a few weeks later that she found out that she was once again pregnant, and her view of men was shattered forever. She was hopelessly alone, Compared to her pregnancy with her first child, the second was much less emotional, and she held no hopes of a happy family with the child, to the point that she simply handed a paper with two names on it to the nurse when she went into labor, and told her to name the child whichever depending on if it was a girl or boy. She barely paid the baby any mind once it was born, refusing to breastfeed and returning to work as soon as she could with the baby left back with the toddler and the sitter. While Hamish had been the embodiment of her lost hopes for a future and an object that she could focus her rage on, Úna was just a pest that she wanted to rid herself of as quickly as possible. She went through the bare minimum of her obligations, not paying any attention to anything other than lowering the cost of raising another. When she needed new clothes she would simply make up a list, and buy the cheapest that she could find with no care for the styles or the colors, and when she needed a haircut it was a bowl over her head and a pair of kitchen shears. School was horrible for Úna, there was endless teasing with regards to her shabby appearance and she quote simply was isolated from the rest of the children. She hated going, but it was the only escape from the fear that engulfed their small home, and her mother's rage towards her brother. It was at first a rare but frightening occurrence that her mother would grow so enraged to strike out against him, and she would sit quietly at the dinner table pretending not to see nor hear his cries. Yet the violence began to escalate, her mother striking him harder and starting to throw dishes at him in rage. Una at first escaped to the closet of Hamish's bedroom, where she would hide under the pile of his clothing so she wouldn't be noticed and become another punching bag. She would cower, hands pressed tightly over her ears as she tried to block out the screams and think sweet thoughts. Yet it wasn't enough, and armed with Hamish's old raincoat and boots she fed out into the woods. If rage was all that awaited her at home she was far better off being taken to the Fairy Court like she had read about. Guided by the moonlight she would find fairy circles and seat herself down in them, spending the nights there in the cold, and making her way home once she woke disappointed that she was still there. There never was any fear of being eaten by a wild animal, what awaited her at home was far more fearsome in her mind. As her mother's rage and distrust of her children grew even little things like purchasing clothing and shoes for her youngest became far too much of a burden, and she just gave her Hamish's old things. It was more than humiliating for a girl of seven to be dressed in her brother's hand me downs, and she started to take shears to them, trying to make ruffled skirts and dresses like the how the other children wore. Her first tries were horrid messes of glue and tape that she hid in the bin so she wouldn't be scolded. Yet with the help of the sewing kit her Mother kept under the sink she made progress, the next garment she constructed actually wearable. She started raiding the lost and found at school for materials, spending more and more time sewing away quietly at home and out in the woods. Úna didn't have fine lace nor ruffles, but for once she had clothes that she was proud of, and would weave wreaths of flowers to wear in her hair. She felt like a fairy, pretty and graceful with a laugh that sounded like the tinkle of glass. The fairies may not had taken her with them, instead they had blessed her to become one of them, that was they way she seemed to see it. Through the forest that protected her she would dance, skirt swirling around her ankles as she sang and made little bouquets of wildflowers to set in the fairy rings. She was finally happy drifting along with the bare minimum, getting a side job at a seamstress's shop as soon as she was old enough to work. University wasn't something she was interested in, it was doubtful that she could afford it even if she had the grades anyways. When she was fifteen they left off to England, and instead of becoming a seamstress's apprentice she decided to open a business herself, running it out of her bedroom and leaving school as soon as she was able to pursue it full time. It wasn't much after that she simply packed up what little that she had and left her mother's home, finding a small loft above a flower shop that the rent was cheap enough and what the nice elderly couple that owned were more than fine in allowing her to work off what she couldn't pay. Life was simple, sewing on a whim when inspiration hit her and selling her work off the internet from a small shop she set up. Fey Woolens began to gather a rather nice little following, items she placed up for sale going rather quickly at no matter the price. Each article she made was unique, and eventually she opened up a page for commissions, sewing up elaborate gowns of taffeta and velvet that went for thousands of pounds. She was content, there was nothing more than she needed, and was left to easily do what made her happiest. |
| Role-Play Sample |
Una gently ran her fingers over the burlap spread over her table, getting to know the rustic fabric for a moment before weaving the stem of a wildflower through the gaps in the weave. This was a shawl requested specially for a show later in the day, she wouldn't receive credit for the work directly but that was precisely what she had requested. Instead they would make mention of her shop, and she would stay out of the limelight. Nothing would be more troublesome than a magazine coming for an interview or such, one had attempted to contact her before and they were irritatingly persistent. The shawl she was working on was coming about rather nicely though, and that was more than enough of a prize for her. She had sewn a gentle lace edge, the fabric a gentle brown from how she had dyed it with the dregs of her tea. The flowers she had picked originally had white petals, but with a little bit of fabric dye and a paintbrush they shone a gentle goldenrod that faded off towards the center. Each one she would lift up to her face and let her eyes drift closed, letting the scent waft towards her so that for just a moment she could imagine herself relaxing in the park she had picked them in rather than her stuffy workroom. It was for a wedding dress to the best of her knowledge, that's what the brand it was for generally produced. The new summer bridal line focused on a rustic theme, a focus on texture and subtle patterns rather than vibrant colors. Her phone rang, and with a slight glance she confirmed it was her client before returning to the tedious but fulfilling work of weaving in the flowers. Her deadline was in a few hours, or had it already been a few hours? She knew when the actual deadline was, and that was the crucial matter. The show was still in two hours, and if she left in an hour and a half and peddled for the life of her it would surely get there in time. |
| OOC Information |
| Super Sheepy Mc Sheepykins of Sheepland. |
| Dance out in the rain in your undies and bleat, I'll come. |
| Is that a sock in your pants or are you just...oh...ew...that doesn't look right man, let me get a closer look. |
| What's wooly great to hug? A bag of WOOL! |
| made by CAPTAIN of BACK TO NEVERLAND |
