Difference between revisions of "Hawu Jinjahl"
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<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="font-family:Georgia;padding:10px 15px; background: #F1ECEB;font-size:16px;color:#ffffff; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black;letter-spacing:0.2em;"><center>GENERAL INFORMATION</center></div></span></h3> | <h3><span class="mw-headline" id="General"><div style="font-family:Georgia;padding:10px 15px; background: #F1ECEB;font-size:16px;color:#ffffff; text-shadow: 1px 1px 3px black;letter-spacing:0.2em;"><center>GENERAL INFORMATION</center></div></span></h3> |
Revision as of 10:43, 22 December 2015
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■ BIRTH NAME... Hawu Jinjahl ■ RACE & CLAN... Miqo'te - Keeper of the Moon ■ GENDER... Female ■ AGE & NAMEDAY... Twenty and four Summers, born on the 7th Sun of the First Astral Moon ■ ORIENTATION... Straight ■ MARITAL STATUS... Single |
■ CITIZENSHIP... Lominsan ■ CURRENT RESIDENCE... Various inn rooms throughout the whole of Eorzea ■ OCCUPATION... Liaison, Trader of goods, Aetherial Scholar ■ PATRON DEITY... Menphina, The Lover ■ HEIGHT & WEIGHT... 5’1’’ & 106 Ponzs (?) ■ ALIGNMENT... Neutral Evil |
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An entirely pleasant creature at first glance, the Keeper takes the stage of life as one drowned in their own softness, something delicate, helpless and somewhat better off for it, however her nature is darker. Born out of lies and dipped into a world of fancy, there is something decidedly off kilter about the little woman across the way. A wanderlust infects her soles and those feet carry her this way and that, never settling for very long, she seeks something, though it is not something she is entirely aware of, if at all. A hedonist that could only be described as eccentric, she is a host to a variety of tastes, ranging from the most savage and brutal to those of refined excellence. Despite this broad spectrum, Hawu is a highly selective individual. With a penchant for those who have seen hardship and a lust for coin, the Keeper is a sobering reminder of what a wolf in sheep’s clothing can do.
A cage of thin bones, frail, and blanketed by flesh of alabaster. Not a mark is laid on this pale canvas save for the racial markings alluding to her moon kissed heritage and a small imperfection of a beauty mark beneath her left eye. She bruises easily, and it can be seen when she walks with that elegant gait, when she favors the gentle curve of her hip, perhaps a purplish wrist hid well within a gathering of frilly material at the cuff of her sleeve, a small shoulder. She adorns herself in lavish garbs, vestments speaking of expensive and fashionable tastes. Well kept nails are often painted and scrape against just about every manner of surface that passes the bowl of the woman’s palm.
Full lips, red and blushing compared to the rest of her wintry palette are often painted with an inviting grin. At times they quirk and quiver, and she can often be fingering away at the flesh in thought. They hide a pair of vicious fangs, as per usual for her kind. Her pale countenance gives way to a pair of honey filled pools, framed by full lashes and reflecting most everything with a passionate stare. Her stare is one as golden as the freshly minted gil her small hands grasp for and telling very little of the woman wrapped up in all of that chilled flesh and jewelry. Tresses of lilac curl and wave freely from her crown, kissing over her cheeks and cascading down to her waist in all of their glory. Silken and often wind tossed, she makes no effort to try to keep it all neat and orderly. A curtain of foreshortening rests over her forehead, usually plagued by fiddling fingertips, it blends well down into her curls, bangs always well kept as can be. Sporting a pair of fluffy ears that are larger than most, it is obvious that she had never fully grown into them. They are attentive, wispy and energetic, great in pairing to her long tail. The appendage is fluffier than most, kept long and silken, though she neglects to festoon it with any sort of novelties, baubles or any other things along the lines of any old whatsit. Housing a feminine figure, she is akin to a neat hourglass, though still relatively petite. She stands at a diminutive height of five fulms and one ilm, and weighs in at one-hundred and six ponzs. Most everything about the woman is gentle, soft, passive, and in her sickly countenance there is understanding and a welcoming smile. Her timbre is soft, almost motherly. Words are often breathed with care, among varied gesticulations and a gaze that reflects little more than a figure before her.
Personable, empathetic, affable, even maternal on the surface, the miqo’te makes herself out to be a disarmingly harmless individual. It is almost entirely believable, but years spent in various foul situations has made it so that the Keeper is a wondrous practitioner of deception. Once the mask is torn away, we reveal that of a strange creature, secretive yet somehow open to questions phrased well enough by the right mouths. The clearest thing about the woman to those whom are not held close within her gilded hands is that she is most definitely an eccentric. Her morals and ideals are skewed, slanted or nonexistent, though it does not stop her from acting proper and as cordial as possible within the company of others.
Not entirely religious, but her actions speak of a woman of balance rather than faith. Her reverence for the Twelve comes from a loose upbringing in that regard. Words of the Twelve leave her lips with whimsy, careless for the power they may hold. Guided by an unseen hand at a time, violence has been taken in as something to revere. While unwilling to participate in it herself, or commit any such acts, she is respectful of it in all of it’s forms. Reasons for this are hazy. Strangely affectionate and fond of physical displays of such a feeling, the lady’s hands are prone to wandering chastely. The linking of arms, soft kisses upon the cheek, gentle brushing with the back of a hand, she will often bump her hip up against another as well as nudge and prod with elbows, as friendly folk are wont to do. Despite her detached nature, she is warm and airy to those whom she has collected throughout her travels. The folk she has come to value are often regarded in an almost familial manner, bordering on maternal for most. She is meticulous and neat, growing frazzled and upset if she is dirty or seen in any way as being less than presentable to herself, it has gotten to the point where she actually carries soaps on her person should the need for cleanliness arise. Disturbingly calm in most situations, some reasonable and some wholly unreasonable. She is also content about most everything in herself, and doesn’t seem to be aware of a growing pit in her consciousness nagging at her for interactions with others, much less acknowledging it properly. Something about her hobbies speak words of an obsessive creature, thankfully she is not one for other people in general, and is free to hoard however many books on arithmetic or gatherings of flowers as she pleases. Carrying herself with poise, she is a confident woman enveloped in self love. She is aware of her flaws, as well as the more admirable parts of her behavior, though she’d not do anything to change herself. Her contentedness is both enviable, and disturbing. A less than traditional Keeper, she does keep to the more shadowy bells of day, she is cathemeral. Due to being born as a runt and living as a runt, her fragile physique breeds a pleasant personality as they say. A business woman in her innards, and a hedonist at her core, she is silver-tongued, sensual and opportunistic. With an eye for finery and the exotic, she is often described as a fresh presence in the room, despite her eclectic behavior.
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