Eilidh Fiderose
May 9, 2024 15:26:51 GMT -5
Post by Eilidh Fiderose on May 9, 2024 15:26:51 GMT -5
Eilidh Fiderose
Armour of Hope"Eilidh, I haven't strength for this," a voice confesses quickly in a soft, pleading tone. As if ready to concede.
Instead of a sword to the neck, a helping hand is offered, "You kid yourself. Get up. Position. We go again."
Instead of a sword to the neck, a helping hand is offered, "You kid yourself. Get up. Position. We go again."
![](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/11/59/be/1159be18eb5daef02dcb486178bff727.jpg)
Artist: Morgan Madeline, @mormadillus on IG.
Gender and preferred pronouns:
Female (she/her, they/them)
Age: 20
Race: Human
Nationality: Capitol Landing
"Eili! Let me braid your hair!" her younger sister's request rings through the backyard once she notices Eilidh tuck away a stray strand of hair one time too many.
"Okay. You have a few minutes at best, though."
"Okay. You have a few minutes at best, though."
Appearance:
Eilidh carries herself with effortless elegance, though she does have a certain roughness in her figure. Her blonde hair is always tied back to prevent hindrance, and she is rarely seen dressed anything other than fighting clothes or armour. Due to frequent exercise, her physique is honed for athletics and strength which is required of a knight she aims to be. Faint freckles cover the maiden's nose and cheeks; the color of her eyes is grayishly blue. Up close, it's noticable she's not afraid of nor battle, nor work; there are both scars and calluses on her arms. In contrast to her elegant aura, her sand-coloured skin is rather dry. Moreover, her nails are always trimmed short and aren't something she cares to regard more than necessary.
"Your posture is that of a fern in the wind, and you step like a skittish rabbit. Gods save us," Eilidh sighs, fixing her partner's form, gently adjusting it with her gloved hands.
"Weep, scream, bite my hand if you please or eat a shoe for all I care! But you won't abandon the Academy, okay? I know you've got it in you. Come on, let's go get you something to drink," with a warm hand on her friend's back, she eases the girl to turn away from training grounds and fishes around in her satchel for coin.
She stares at the man in disbelief for a moment as his harsh words hang in the cold, damp air of the eve. Putting herself between him and the distressed youngster, Eilidh holds her ground. "Fine. If this is the way we're going to talk, I'll put a few words in. You sound like a bloated toad which was hardly ever taught how to croak, and you reek of onions and liquor which does absolutely nothing but feed into the odor of pure shit radiating a mile from you. If I catch so much of a glimpse of you getting close to this person again, I'll see that you won't step a foot in this tavern after this. Ever. I mean it."
Personality:
More often than not, Fiderose is blunt and honest with herself and others. She isn't exactly known for sugarcoating things, and she mostly delivers her messages as they are, even if they are meant to be insulting. That is not to say that she haven't any softness, in fact, above all, she values hope. She shrouds herself in it, wears it just like armour. She is there for her friends, her loved ones and allies; she doesn't falter or even stop to think if she is to express genuine belief that they will prevail and overcome the challenges they're facing. She is chivalrous and won't look the other way when there's a person in need of help. There is a flaw to this, however, as she might become overly controlling and turn snappy when the situation is out of her hands. She refuses to step down or give up before she sees the matter through.
"I am telling you, this is not how this should end. Talk to me."
History:
Having grown up in a big family, Eilidh has always know how to care for others and their needs. Her home is nor poor, nor wealthy, but always a handful and a never-ending source of both chores and tender moments. Currently, she is attending the Martial Academy where she's working on her way with a sword and skill in martial arts. Interestingly enough, the drive for battle shouldn't be coursing through her blood at all - for many generations, most of her family has always been like a garden full of beautiful, gentle, soft souls. Perhaps she might share some of the qualities, but carries a completely different character and acts as the defender of the garden, making sure that the fragrance remains unbothered.
Of course, she's had her share of meetings and partings, seen people come and go. She's loved and been loved, she had fought and been fought for, courted, invited to dance and been offered flowers, seen sunsets and bloodshed... but perhaps you should ask her directly. She won't mind to tell the tale in a comfortable setting.
"I think there was a time when a boy climbed a windmill to get my attention... I was amused, at first, but before long he had started to wobble on the wooden platform; the mill was old, I guess. He fell, I caught him. We never spoke again."