"The beginning is moments ago, the end is moments away. There is no time to forget before all is forgotten."
-- The Sky Cat (Night in the Woods)"
BASICS
NAME: Liurnia
GENDER: Female
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
ORIENTATION: Homosexual
BIRTHDATE: Fall 2756
AGE: 20 as of Fall 2776
LOCATION: Fort Weyr
OCCUPATION: Candidate,
WING: N/A
APPEARANCE
EYES: Hazel-Green
HAIR: Dark Chocolate
HEIGHT AND BUILD: 5'2 and adorably husky.
PLAY-BY: N/A
EXPY SOURCE: Mae (Night in the Woods)
FULL APPEARANCE: Liurnia is not a very tall individual, to be sure. She stands shorter than the average and everything about her is a little compact. Her skin is a luscious, smooth mocha and it fits her curvaceous figure nicely. She isn't thin and she isn't trim. There's a healthy amount of fat on her and decent muscle where it counts - and yes, she had a bit of a muffin top and she's absolutely fine with it. Liurnia keeps her 100% cocoa hair short and wild, curls fraying off in different directions and giving the general impression of being unkempt even though she takes very god care of it. Hazel orbs that bend to the influence of green add a nice contrast to the rest of her. Liurnia's right ear is pierced and typically adorned by a simple silver hoop earing. She enjoys wearing baggy and comfortable clothes and is not one to conform to the notions of how women ought to dress. A large cloak is in her wardrobe and it's her absolute favorite article of clothing.
PERSONALITY
PERSONALITY: Liurnia is energetic and agile and can be most often found climbing something she probably isn't supposed to. It is very hard for her to sit still without causing some form of mayhem - whether intentionally or by accident. She is an extrovert among extroverts, chatty and outgoing to anybody and everybody. Self-preservation? Nah, she doesn't need that - she's invincible (or so she'd like to believe!) and will be your #1 wingwoman in the pursuit of doing irresponsible things. She has a deep love for those she'd call friends and can be very compassionate when they are in need.
Contrary to her bubbly exterior, Liurnia does struggle with a sort of depression that's a little bit difficult to scrape the surface of. She is anxious, locked in combat with an existential dread that inhabits part of her brain. 'What is real?' Her means of coping with this is disassociation - and this causes problems. She sees herself as a jerk for her bluntness and has a difficult time moving on from things that have gone on without her. While others may pursue dreams or ... go on and have families, or become master crafters and the like ... Liurnia appears to be stuck in a rut, forever chasing a youth that's sprinting off into the horizon. Her drive to continue her erratic often ends with self-destructive behavior. The gravity of her decisions and actions tends to fly completely over her head.
HISTORY
FAMILY:
Mother - 40
Father - 43
Angiolo - close friend (21)
Griggonzlo - close friend (21)
Bextraice - close friend (20)
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: N/A
BIRTHPLACE: Peyton Hold
HISTORY: Liurnia was the only child to a humble little family in Peyton Hold, just south of Fort Weyr. Her mother worked as a scribe for the various crafters in town, while her father tended to a farm. Her life as a whole was ... not that interesting. Sure, she was a little more rambunctious than most. She got stuck in the trees she climbed. Skinned her knees more than her fair share. But Liurnia was a kid being a kid. She grew up to be close-knit with some neighboring holdbred brats and they would often 'jam' together for fun using a variety of makeshift instruments.
She was only 8 when the plague hit. Many of the folks she'd grown up with perished to the disease, including the mother of her friend Bextraice. By some stroke of luck, those closest to her were spared and the sickness gradually tapered to a close. Yet the stress of it, that lingering dread that her mom or dad or best friends would be next ... or herself ... was daunting. Liurnia repressed the anxiety by delving into a new passion - writing. She would find scraps of hide that were too tattered for proper records and write tales of whimsy: short stories and ballads of made-up places and times that never were.
This would eventually lead Liurnia down a path towards pursuing the title of Scribe. Her parents paid for a caravan to bring her to the closest Harper Hall when she turned 13. Liurnia could not ask for more! Between lessons and acquiring apprenticeship, she would always find time to indulge jotting down her colorful imagination. She even dabbled in writing small, playful ballads for the crafter younglings.
When she was 18, Liurnia had a back-of-the-brain thought that crept to be front and center. The characters in her little stories were vivid, in her own mind ... but they were simply scribbled on a piece of dried skin and nothing more. In a single instance, she felt no different to those fictional entities: a puppet, paraded about on strings for the entertainment of others. She was just a shape. Just a trail of ink on parchment. It was an unwarranted notion, and the obvious evidence - touching and feeling, all the sensations and smells and sounds - was right in front of her nose. But like a weed, the thought ate away at her otherwise healthy mind and caused a new sort of anxiety: existential dread.
Quite suddenly she lost the passion for her duties. When one of her colleagues ridiculed Liurnia for her sudden lack of passion, the stress overflowed into the form of flying fists. Her victim suffered only small bruises and a wounded ego, but the shock of her own actions caused her to relinquish her apprenticeship and return home to Peyton Hold.
It was with devastation that she learned life had gone on without her. All of her friends grew up, formed relationships, moved on ... and away. This was a new and unwelcome wallowing despair for her to wade in. Liurnia was left seeking some validation of her own existence. At the age of 20, she presented herself to a Searchrider and was deemed suitable to be a Candidate for Fort Weyr with the hope that she could find some meaning to her life.