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This 1x1 RP is for Fantasy Horses and Wounded. Please do not post if you're not me or Wounded. Thank you for understanding. |
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╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗ Aislinn Rhiannon Theron "Aisi" Age: 21 Gender: Female Role: Kitchen Maid to Serving Maid ❀ Appearance: Aislinn is a pretty little thing, her head often in the clouds. Standing at 5'5", she is of average height with a soft, somewhat curvy physique. She is not slender, nor "chubby" just somewhere in between with thick thighs and a thinner waist. Her skin is fair, never tanning no matter how long she stays in the sun. There is, however, a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She has high cheekbones and a small, button nose that is slightly upturned at the end. She has plump, rosy lips with a stellar, pearly white smile behind them. Aislinn has long, chocolate brown hair cascading down her back in waves like a water fall. It ends just at the small of her back, though since she works in the kitchens and around food, she often has her hair tied up or back in a braid. It is soft and silky, rarely ever looking out of place. Her eyes stand out the most, with dark, long eyelashes surrounding orbs of icy blue. Her pale eyes seem to glow, and if one is to look close enough they might see the darker flecks of blue-grey that surround her pupil. Aislinn can most often be found wearing simple dresses that are neutral in color. The sleeves are usually short, and she often wears a smock or an apron over her clothes to keep them from getting so terribly dirty. When she isn't working, she might adorn prettier dresses of light pinks or blues.
Personality: Aislinn carries a gentle presence, often moving quietly through the palace halls with lowered eyes and careful steps. At first glance, she seems shy and reserved, her soft voice rarely raising above what’s needed, especially in the company of strangers or those above her station. Though hesitant when faced with the unknown, her natural curiosity flickers beneath the surface, urging her to observe, listen, and take in everything around her. She is cautious in her trust, yet those who earn it quickly discover the warmth hidden behind her quiet demeanor. Once her hesitations melt away, Aislinn turns into a playful and spirited soul. She delights in laughter, mischief, and simple joys, whether it’s sneaking into sunlit courtyards, exploring hidden corridors of the palace, or trying her hand at new skills, no matter how daunting they may seem. Adventurous at heart, she rarely turns down the chance to experience something new, her excitement as contagious as her smile. It’s in these moments of ease and comfort that her true self shines, carefree, imaginative, and full of life. Beneath it all, Aislinn is tender-hearted, wearing her emotions openly, sometimes to her own pain. She feels deeply for others, quick to offer comfort, kindness, or a listening ear, yet seldom allows herself to ask for the same in return. There is a softness in her that makes her vulnerable, but also remarkably endearing. Her capacity for love seems endless, whether it’s toward people, ideas, or fleeting moments of beauty. In her quiet way, she embodies both fragility and strength, a gentle light within the often cold and rigid palace walls. Still, Aislinn is not without her faults. When faced with sudden conflict or uncertainty, her tendency to panic often overtakes her, leading her to jump to conclusions or assume the worst before all is known. This nervous streak can cause her to retreat too quickly, or occasionally stir unnecessary worry among those around her. While her imagination is a source of creativity and joy, it also fuels her anxieties when left unchecked. Yet even in these moments, her earnestness shines through, her flaws serving only to remind others of her humanity and the raw, unpolished sincerity of her heart. ❀ Likes: *Baking *Warm Weather *Adventures/Doing New Things *Dancing *Being Surrounded By Nature Dislikes: *Thunderstorms *Large Crowds *Being Center Of Attention *Spicy Foods *Being Idle ❀ Backstory: Aislinn’s life before the palace is a quiet haze of hardship, much of it softened by time but not forgotten. She doesn't remember much before the night she was taken into the palace. She was found by a pair of sympathetic guards, wandering near the palace outskirts with little more than the clothes on her back and a hollow look of hunger in her eyes. Where she had come from or how long she had been on her own, Aislinn rarely speaks of, but her slight frame and weary steps told enough of the story. The guards, moved by her fragility and the kindness still shining through her timid smile, brought her within the palace walls and secured her a place among the servants. For a year she has worked there, slowly regaining her strength, her shy gratitude blossoming into quiet devotion to the only home she has truly known. Though she was first given simple tasks, Aislinn soon discovered a deep fondness for the palace kitchens, where the warmth of the hearth and the rich scents of bread and spice felt like comfort after years of scarcity. She took naturally to baking, delighting in the way simple ingredients could be transformed into something both nourishing and joyful. The cooks, amused by her eagerness and careful hands, began teaching her small recipes, and she found pride in kneading dough, decorating sweet cakes, and sneaking extra pastries to brighten a fellow servant’s day. Baking became more than just work, it became a way for Aislinn to pour her love into something tangible, offering little pieces of comfort to others just as the palace had offered her. ╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝ |
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‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ . EVREN ALARIC KELVEDON ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ . Name meaning: Evren - "cosmos", "universe" Alaric - "ruler of all" . Preffered name: Ev, Evren . Age: Twenty-two . Birthdate: March 12th . Gender: Male . Title: Crown prince of the kingdom of Ruteron . Appearance: Raven-black medium-curly hair, cut medium-short, though a few curls tend to bounce up at inconvenient times. It tends to get ruffled and messy, since he likes to run his hands through his hair. His eyes are brown, narrow, and sharp, boring into anyone that dares to look directly at them. However, they turn warm and compassionate when they fall apon innocent, humble people. Evren is tall, standing at nearly 6' 2", making him even more commanding and frightening to behold. When with people who need to respect him, he moves with his head held high and an air of magnificence about him. But when he is alone or with people he thinks of as equals, such as townspeople or servants, his shoulders will sag, head drop, and he'll look like a real person with real feelings, not some soon-to-be king who is perfect in every way. His skin is fair, though a little dark, and his face is long, with a defined jawline and angled features. His eyebrows are thin, and make him look like he's angry, which he normally is. On the very rare occasion when he smiles, he shows all his teeth and his eyes sparkle in a charming and loving way. The few who have seen him smile have been known to say something like, "He could be a charming, handsome young man, winning the hearts of ladies all around, but only if he smiles like that more." Evren's build is muscular, strong, and lean, with a broad chest and shoulders. His arms are thin and long but athletic, from all his battle training in the castle courtyard. His hands look rough and tough, but are actually gentle, soft, and strong. His stride is long, purposeful, and confident, but, again, if he's with people he can relax around, he walks in a casual, meandering way, as if he has all the time in the world. . Personality: Irritated, depressed, kind, serious, commanding and snappy when he needs to be, and clearly unhappy. Beneath all of that is a deep longing to be understood, and a care for the innocent. He is stern and sharp because that's how his father tells him he must rule the kingdom. When he's not with his father or other people in court who demand that he be demanding as well, though, he looks and acts like exactly what he is; a tired, empty, caring, kind young man who can't live up to the family name. Evren is a great listener, and tends to see both sides of an argument well, which is a very good trait for a sooon-to-be-king. Evren truly has two sides to him. One is his much more common, magnifiscent, kingly, commanding personality, and the second is his real self, the one that is kind, gentle, loving, and caring. . Family: Bartholomew Kelvedon | Father | King of Ruteron | Harsh, demanding, expects the best. Isabella Kelvedon | Mother | Queen of Ruteron | Assumed to be dead . Backstory: Evren has the standard prince backstory. Born and raised in the castle, taught everything a future king should know, and forced to write essay after essay about the kingdom's laws, and studying war tactics and diplomacy books. His mother disappeared when he was three and no one knows what happened to her. The only thing he remembers of her is a faint memory of a tune she used to sing, and that she had long, raven-black hair just like him. . Beliefs and values: Evren believes that... The poor should be treated like people and cared for. He'll never live up to be what his father wants him to be. He doesn't even want to be like his father anyways. He won't be able to protect his kingdom when the time comes. . Evren values... Good food. Peace and quiet. People who can appreciate where they are right now, without worrying about what's ahead. . Other: N/A . |
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Your sheet looks awesome! Do we need anything else before we try to start? |
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Hey, thanks! Some of it was written in a rush so I'm glad you like it! I don't think so... I'm good anyway! Do you wanna start it? |
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sure, I can! It'll be tonight (hopefully) though. It's been super busy for me these past couple days. |
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Working in the kitchen had been all Aislinn had ever known. Ever since she was brought into the castle with little memory left to her, she had lost herself in cooking and baking. It was peaceful, her entire crazy world going quiet the moment she placed her hands into a bowl of flour or neared a heated brick oven with loaves of bread or cake pans. She escaped the looks of pity that she was occasionally served and was able to ignore the judgement that came with being a girl with her head too far into the clouds. Unfortunately, her life of joy and peacefulness had began to change with the placement of a new task. "Aislinn, come for a moment," The head kitchen maid called out to her, beckoning her over. The brown haired girl smiled, dusting her hands off on her apron as she drew away from the latest making of bread. "Yes ma'am?" She questioned as she approached, stopping just before the woman, who's hair had long began to turn white with age, the curly whisps framing her wrinkled face. Mrs. Fitz. The closest thing that Aislinn had ever had to a mother since being there. She was an adult and didn't necessarily need a mother, but Mrs. Fitz had been there to guide and support her for as long as she'd been there. "You're being assigned a new job," the woman began, holding up a hand and tutting as Aislinn began to object. "You need to expand your horizons and get out of the kitchen some. You won't be going far, dearest. A new server for the royal family is needed for meal time, and I do believe you have the correct temperament for the job," she told her, trying to lighten the mood with a warm smile. She knew the girl would not be happy, but it was needed to bring her out of the shell she lived in. "But I enjoy working in the kitchens. It makes me happy and I feel at home there," Aislinn protested gently, a frown edging at the corners of her lips. Mrs. Fitz chuckled and brushed back a loose strand of hair from Aislinn's face. "And you'll still be welcomed to join us in the kitchen from time to time, but it is settled. You'll begin serving them today at the mid-day meal. Now go get cleaned up. We can't have you coated in flour and sugar in front of the royal family," Mrs. Fitz began shooing Aislinn off, telling her to wash up and put on a clean dress and other motherly things. She didn't mind the new job, but it was disheartening to know she'd no longer be cooking meals but serving them. Aislinn had never even formally met any of the royal family. She'd seen them in passing, perhaps, but she was rarely out of the kitchen or within sight of such prestigious people. Entering her small chamber room, she discarded her dirtied gown and apron before going to the water basin. She washed up her hands and her face, which weren't really dirty to begin with, before pulling on a more suitable dress. She untied her hair and brushed it out, knowing that if she set foot before the family looking disheveled that Mrs. Fitz would have her head. Braiding back her hair once more, Aislinn finally stood and completed her clean attire with a crisp white apron that she tied neatly around her. She checked the time before hurrying out of her room. It wouldn't be a very good impression to be late to serving her King and Prince, now would it?
Just as she arrived back to the kitchens, one of the chef's had pushed a pitcher of ice water into her hands and shooed her away again, telling her that the food would be out shortly. Aislinn bit at the inside of her cheek, standing there for a moment dumbfounded before snapping out of it. She'd go and fill the chalices with water first, then. She traveled the short hall to the dining room, pushing open the heavy wooden door carefully. The room was still mostly empty, only the King and a couple of guards having arrived at that point. Aislinn was stiff, her hands threatening to tremble as she walked to the table her hand bowed. "Good afternoon," she spoke softly as she poured water into the chalice to the right of the King before moving to do the same with the other empty cup. She wondered where the Prince was and if he'd be joining, and whether or not she'd expect to be serving more than just the two main royals. She had so many questions, and she couldn't lie and say she wasn't nervous. |
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(Love it!) . The geography tutor glanced at the clock sitting atop the ornately carved mantlepiece and closed the book in his hands decisively. "Lesson's over, your highness. I expect a perfect map of the kingdom's bodies of water by tomorrow's session, fully labeled." The slimy man began tidying up his desk, stacking piles of maps and books about cartography neatly on the dark wood surface. Prince Evren Kelvedon sighed, checking to make sure his tutor hadn't heard. The man was still paying him no mind. The prince collected his own things and pushed open the heavy-set wooden door that was unnecessarily tall, stepping into the hallway. Immediately, his bodyguard, who had been standing against the wall to the right of the door, came to attention. Evren nodded at the man and he fell in step behind the prince, wielding a dangerous metal-tipped spear in his right hand. . The prince made a stop at his room, a large, airy, lonely place, to drop off his lesson things, then strode down to the great hall for dinner. (meaning lunch. I'll be calling dinner supper.) Every servant, maid, and guard he passed bowed deeply to the crown prince of Ruteron. Evren tried to act like he appreciated their grovelling, but in reality, he wanted to be left alone, or at least have people not bowing and scraping to his every need every second of the day. Seeing the large double doors to the great hall up ahead, he sighed again and reminded himself to act like a prince. His bodyguard pushed open the doors, and Evren stepped inside. . The hall's ceiling was tall, and multiple chandeliers hung from the rafters high above, illuminating the room in a warm glow. The long table running down the center of the hall was covered in a dark green tablecloth, and empty plates, glasses, and bowls sat by each chair, waiting to be filled. Utensils would be brought in with the meal, and Evren saw that a servant was already filling the chalices with water. He straightened, lifted his chin, and strode to his chair near the end of the table, on his father's right hand. He took a seat, acutely aware of everyone's eyes on him. He was used to it, of course, but that didn't mean he didn't want to scream at them to pay attention to someone else for once. . Evren's father, King Bartholomew, fixed a piercing look on his son. "How were your morning lessons, Evren?" His voice was deep and sharp, with no hint of the fatherly love that the prince craved. The young man put on a face to match his father's; strong, with no room for scorn. "They were satisfactory, father," he lied. "Teacher Halluw was impressed with my essay on battlefield strategy, and I am nearly finished reading Lord Holt's guide on diplomacy tactics." He kept his voice flat, at a monotone, showing no emotion or vulnerablility. It was how he had to speak, so his father wouldn't think of him as weak or unfit for the throne. . The king nodded in acknowledgement and said no more, to Evren's relief. They waited for the food to arrive, sitting there in silence. One of his father's advisors entered and whispered to the king, glancing around nervously. The king nodded and said, "I'll get to it after dinner." The advisor bowed and backed out of the room. Evren was used to interruptions like that, so he wasn't bothered by it. All he wanted was to be able to eat and go back to his room so he could be alone. But even that wouldn't happen. After dinner he had mounted archery lessons, and that meant hours being scolded by his riding instructor, and firing arrow after arrow into bales of hay. Evren forced himself to stay in the moment. Showing that he was distracted was one of the times his father pounced on him to act like a king. |
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Steady Rain all Day
