| LLYRE IBARII |
Effeminate. Slim. 5'9'' in height; short, for a Mali'aheral. Borne in year 1532.
Her garbs are simple and flowing, of light-blue robe which cast over a dress.
Two necklaces adorn her neck in gold, and yet another two auric bands decor
her hair. Owlish eyes, jade in hue, are set to a petite face void of blemishes.
She is a true neutral, speckled with sporadic whims; whilst docile on exterior,
who really knows what goes on inside that head of her's? Sometimes it seems
to be filled only with fantasies of rolling moon-seas and ships; yet sometimes
a downward quirk of lips betrays more somber musings.
Pride will forever be her downfall- spontaneity, her double-edged sword.
Profession : Street art, apparently
Residence : The Dominion
Due to her natural aloofness, attempts at sharpening her physical and magical
prowess has all gone to waste. However, she takes after her maln in her love
of arts and music; sparse coin have been oft' made offering portraits in various
streets, singing songs in temporary dwelling-grounds, writing odes.
Spare time, if any, seems to have been spent indulging in novels, daydreams,
readings on culture and lore of those other than her own. When she hums, she
often echos the lilts of seafarers, mimics the hymns of the faithful. And when a
pen is lifted in her hand, it strokes outlines of young and old, male and female,
high-elf and non. She claims all are equal in her eyes- but it is hard to deny at
times, the century-long conviction she held of her own racial superiority.
Her travel-sack is filled with knick-knacks of arts (sketchpad, a coal-pencil, pen)
along with a carved lute and spare spending-money. T'is a little known fact that
the pen she cherishes so is also a dagger in disguise- not that she knows how
to wield it properly.
Current residency is at the apartment docks, under watch of a 'ker who goes
by the name Ayche. The first-floor couch has treated her well for the past year;
she shows little intention of moving out of his abode for the time being.
| CONNECTIONS |
Win'taliyu, sweet haelun
It is common knowledge through those who've known Llyre and her mother that
the story of the sire is something they'd rather not discuss: a tainted Mali'aheral
who've fallen for the arms of a Mali'ker has little place in the pristine society of
the high elves. In fact, had it not been for the dishonoring act of the maln, little
owl might've as well lived forever in the boundaries of her kind instead of fleeing
the nest and head towards the Dominon, seeking better chances at life.
❀ positive acquaintance | ❋ neutral acquaintance | ✦ negative acquaintance
ツ friend | ☼ entrusted | ❤ infatuation | ☁ disliked | ♕ respected | ☊ family
: acquaintances :
a gray sprite - ❋
a virarim guard (?) - ❋
ayche - ❀❤☼♕ say it
galion - ❀
q. torena - ❋
ro'ya - ❋
some wood elf (portrait?) - ❋
: lover(s), past and present :
: enemies, past and present :
(I'm just really new to this community and have no friends)
If she's had friends, lovers and foes during her time in Haelun'or, she has yet to
speak of them during her travels. She, in fact, seldom speaks at all. A subtle wall-
flower in form, this little artist hugs lone corners of bustling squares to indulge in
people-watching; spurring to movement occasionally to jot down the contour of
an interesting lady, the laughing face of a child, the dozing old man.
| MEDIA |
Tumblr ---------- WIP
Playlist ------ ▶
Voice Claim - Phildel