Name: Alethea
Biological sex/gender: female
Appearance: Alethea looks older than she is, owing mostly to being tall for her age, and possessing a pair of breasts that came quite early and have led many to assume that she is a miniature woman, rather than a girl of fourteen years. These, in conjunction with a pretty face that could one day be beautiful (is it ever possible to say?) make her the kind of girl that noble women tie up in dresses and noble men seek out for their heirs. For her own part, Thea doesn’t understand her broad appeal. Her hair is somewhere between blonde and brown, like honey or beer, falling just past her shoulders in crazed tendrils (it was longer before she singed one side, badly, in a wayward experiment) that always seem to be grasping for leaves and sticks and flowers – and often find them. Her eyes are not the bluest anyone has seen, but are lined with a sharp, dark border around the iris that makes them unique in their way. She has small ears and a small nose and a wide, expressive mouth. Her skin is spangled with faint freckles from her forehead to her feet, that darken in the sun. None of these qualities on their own would be remarkable in any way, and yet together they strike a harmonious balance that has turned its fair share of heads.
Age: 14
Personality: Alethea is both very intellectually gifted, and very naïve – perhaps not more innocent than others her age, but more inexperienced than her looks and her intelligence would imply. She sees the world as a fascinating, even miraculous place that is open to her unhindered exploration and study. While it is easy for her to see scientific cause and effect, the consequences of her own adventurous spirit and irreverence for rules completely elude her. She is in turns oblivious to or mystified by the increasingly complicated social mores of people her age and older. Her peers’ ability to manipulate others is lost on her – she is neither a good liar, nor a good detector of lies. These traits together manifest as pathological honesty and a relentless pursuit of understanding, and have given her a reputation as an “eccentric” child. She is all about experiences and discoveries, and seems to lack real preferences.
In addition to her scientific mind, Thea is developing a kind of obsession with heroism. She deeply admires courageous people and wishes to be courageous herself, often putting herself at risk in order to overcome her fears. She heard the motto “do the thing that scares you,” somewhere, and it stuck.
History: Alethea is the oldest of three children. Having been born to a noble family with personal ties to the Crown, Alethea grew up in relative luxury. Her mother, Oenone, was a childhood friend of Lillith’s, and exchanged letters with her often during the long winter. When a fever took Alethea's father just before her 8th birthday, it was Lilith that comforted Oenone in her grief. Despite the families' closeness, however, the children have never met before -- there have always been too many things happening in the world to justify a trip for pleasure's sake.
Winter’s end restored the family’s ancestral home and returned them to something resembling normalcy, but it also saw Shaman without a Queen, throwing an even darker mood over Alethea’s house. In addition to grieving the loss of her friend, Oenone worried for Arthur and for Lilith's children. In private and not without guilt, she also worried that her plans to marry Alethea into the royal family would now be impossible to fulfill. Propelled by these concerns, Oenone decided to send Alethea to the Castle to complete her education and gain some exposure to the court…and hopefully find herself a highborn suitor.
Anything else you wish to include: I’d like to use a coin (obviously not Grae's) for a familiar – Female wolf, Leto.
Your player name: Dema
Sample post:
Alethea wondered what the statistical probability was that her mother would approve of this afternoon she was having. It was, undoubtedly, slightly more probable than being hit by a meteor, and a shade less likely than being struck by lightning. She'd known someone who had been struck by lightning, after all, but meteors seemed disinclined to land on people.
The springtime sun was warm on her skin, and birdsong was loud in her ears, practically drowning out the steady breathing of the sixteen-year-old stableboy laying on the grass beside her. The scene was not so scandalous as it looked, but was certainly not firmly on the side of decency. Alethea had discarded her dress and sat, bare to the knees and shoulders, in her petticoat and camisole, drawing the boy with careful strokes of charcoal in a well-loved sketchbook. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying very hard to be still and finding himself hypnotized by the shape of her body behind its veil of cotton.
"Will you close your eyes? You are distracting me."
"I am distracting you?"
"Yes," she said without looking up, "You are." He sat up and snatched the book from her. "Hey!"
"Wow…"
She stole it back, closed it with a snap. "I wasn't finished."
His grin was disarming. She laughed as he pulled her down and kissed her, with enough finesse that she was sure he'd kissed a number of girls in the past. But Alethea liked kissing him, anyway. It was a surprisingly good feeling. She'd only been kissing the boy for a few months, now, but she definitely understood why people always seemed to be kissing in stories. When she finally pulled away from him, she was flushed and breathless.
"Do I really look like that?" the boy asked her, almost shy.
"Yes. Your abdominals…" she traced the line of them with her index finger, drawing goosebumps across his skin, "are very interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Yes, interesting. Why do you always ask me questions in that voice?"
"Because you're weird." He laughed.
"I am. And you fish for compliments like a girl." She smirked, her fingers grazing the skin just above the line of his trousers. His laughter died in his throat. Her eyes fixed on his face, wondering at this reaction, revelling in what she believed was the power of her hands. But it wouldn't do to fully explore that power -- not yet. Alethea had read what could happen next, and overheard people talking about it (and, she suspected, heard the acts themselves, though she couldn't be sure). She wasn't worried about herself, but was concerned about what would happen to the stableboy, if anyone found out. A little kissing wouldn't see him thrown from her family's land.
And besides, she was leaving. Tomorrow. She sighed and withdrew her hand, gathered her things. The boy looked disappointed, but not surprised.
"I'll miss you, m'lady."
"Will you?" She smiled at him, then turned to the muffled steps of Leto drawing near. "Or will you just miss kissing me?" Her voice contained no hint of reproach. But the question seemed to perplex him, so he didn't answer. What was the difference between missing someone and missing kissing them? But he smiled anyway, baffled, and helped her gather her clothes.
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