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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 24, 2012 1:12:03 GMT -5
A small smile tugged upwards at the corners of the young woman's lips as the woman insisted on shouldering the blame herself, saying she hadn't been paying enough attention to where she was going. Although, the exact same thing could be said of Sinnihte herself, so she allowed herself a soft laugh, shaking her head, before responding. "Perhaps we should agree to share the blame," she suggested, eyes alight with mirth, "otherwise we'll be here quite awhile." She was still rather wary of this unfamiliar woman, but there was something about the way she spoke and acted that went miles towards putting the druid at ease, and as continued to speak, Sinnihte found herself relaxing. "I'm fine," she assured the red haired woman with a soft smile, "there's no need to apologize."
She caught the other woman's eyes briefly, before shifting her gaze slightly, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she was seemingly inspected, fingers still hovering over the spot where her tattoo lay beneath her cloak. A nervous habit, but one that had served her well in the past. The druid cocked her head to the side slightly, her own gaze traveling the length of the other woman's figure, habitually trying to glean any information she could. The soft smile that had dominated her features faltered as she watched the redhead attempt to stretch her arm, insisting that it was merely bruised, but her expression betrayed the fact that she was still in pain.
"I'd be more than happy to, of course," she replied, just as gently, nodding as if to affirm her words. Her eyes widened slightly as the other woman introduced herself -- it turned out that her suspicions about the woman being of the nobility proved true. "I-it's an honor to meet you, my lady," she murmured, bowing her head in respect. She may not put much stock in the nobility and hierarchy herself, but she knew better than to go around disrespecting anyone of status. Not that she made a habit of being disrespectful to anyone, really.
Pausing for a moment, Sinnihte chose her words carefully before answering. "I can't really say that I'm 'from' anywhere," she offered, with a bit of a wry smile. "My...family. We've always traveled. Ever since I was young..." she trailed off, eyes staring off into the distance as she was momentarily lost in thought. Coming back to the present, she shook her head, "forgive me, I digress." Fingers finding their way to the hem of her cloak, she picked idly at a stray thread for a moment, "at the moment, we've made camp in the forests just outside of Camelot," she explained with a nod, not quite sure what else to say. "Is there...somewhere a bit less busy we could go?" she questioned, biting her lower lip once more, a bit nervous if truth be told. "So that I can make sure you're not injured?"
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 10, 2012 3:21:05 GMT -5
Keeping her head down, gaze focused intently on the ground, Sinnihte pulled her cloak ever tighter around herself, taking special care to cover her dark tattoo. A quick glance up revealed she had nearly made the gates, was almost out of the damned city, nearly safe. A soft sigh of relief escaped her lips as her gaze fell back downwards, her posture relaxing as freedom seemed imminent. Of course, no sooner had this thought occurred to her, than she found herself on the ground, knocked over. In her haste to escape, it seemed she had run straight into someone. Eyes widening, she scrambled to her feet, a bit shakily, hurriedly gathering up the supplies the other woman had dropped. Once the items had all been returned to the woven basket, she finally chanced a glance upwards.
Her breath caught in her throat as she laid eyes on the other woman for the first time. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and just as flawless, and her copper hair shone brilliantly in the sun. In short, she was gorgeous, and beauty like that was rarely seen outside of noble families... Neither was the distinct combination of red hair and green eyes. Hand instinctively covering her tattoo, she forced a smile, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry," she rushed out, trying not to appear too panicked. "It's entirely my fault," the Druid assured the other woman, casting a quick glance around to see if any of the guards had noticed the commotion. She was fairly certain that she as already on thin ice as far as they were concerned.
Shifting her gaze back to the woman in question, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, brow furrowing in concern as she noticed the way the woman touched her arm -- the one she had fallen on. Cocking her head to the side, she set her own satchel on the ground, rummaging around in it for a moment, before grabbing a few bunches of herbs. "Your arm...are you hurt?" she asked softly, eyeing the elder woman up and down, searching for any other possible injuries. "I can help the healing process along, if you'll allow me," Sinnihte offered, small smile spreading across her features. If she had caused the injury, it was her place to do what she could to mend it. Within reason, of course. There was no way she would be foolish enough to use her magic on a noble, even if it was in their best interest. "I'm a healer at my camp," she elaborated, reaching her hand out, but stopping a few inches short of actually touching Caitrin, silently requesting permission. "My name is Sinnihte."
It seemed as though she couldn't stop the babble of words that rushed from her mouth even if she had wanted to, and before she knew it, she'd thrown out two potential clues towards who she really was. Putting her life on the line in the process. This is why she didn't like the city. It made her nervous. Flashing another small smile, she rolled on her heels, shifting her weight as she waited with baited breath for the woman's response.
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 6, 2012 8:25:59 GMT -5
Le Portrait de Dorian Grey ; Yes, I'm a nerd and my favorite book is in French.
Le Petite Prince as well.
Then as far as books in English go, To Kill a Mockingbird, A Time to Kill, just about everything Shakespeare ever wrote, The Stand and Cell by Steven King, and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Really, I tend to love any book I come across xD
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 5, 2012 21:14:47 GMT -5
Not even going to talk about who I ship n__n
-scampers back off to the forest-
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 5, 2012 17:59:10 GMT -5
Hey guys :3 Happily Never After would like to affiliate with you. n__n Your button is already up in our affiliates, and we have two lovely banners to choose from. xD <a href="http://happilyneverafterx.proboards.com/index.cgi" target="_blank"><img src="http://img52.imageshack.us/img52/5889/fromphixrb.jpg" border="0" alt="Happily Never After" /></a>And <a href="http://happilyneverafterx.proboards.com/index.cgi" target="_blank"><img src="http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/5163/fromphixruv.jpg" border="0" alt="Happily Never After" /></a> |
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 5, 2012 17:50:36 GMT -5
We all know the stories. Hell, most of us grew up on them, watching, listening, reading as the dashing Prince rescues his damsel in distress and they live happily ever after. Or perhaps you were more interested in fables, about vain princesses who make promises they have no intention of keeping, only to find out that the frog they had attempted to run from was in fact, a handsome prince. Or even the childhood nursery rhymes you used to recite, committed to memory, though ignorant to the deeper darker meaning of the words you would use so often.
Well, this is more than just nostalgia; here in Old Oakhaven, the fairytales are real. Go to the bar -- perhaps you'll be served by a genie. Take a trip through the sketchier parts of town, and perhaps a faery will sell you drugs. Anything's possible here in the land where stories come to life, but be wary. Nothing is what it seems here.
Come join us, if you dare, at 
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Post by Sinnihte on Mar 5, 2012 6:05:45 GMT -5
The corners of her lips quirked upwards into the beginnings of a smile as the boy -- for he wasn't quite a man yet, she had decided, in the ample time she'd had to observe him -- relaxed, stilling his attempts to sit upright. Too much movement would place unnecessary strain on the still-healing skin at his abdomen, and that was the last thing that the Druid wanted. After all, were he to unwittingly re-open the wound, it was far from likely that she would be presented with another opportunity to heal him. Were he anything like his countrymen, now that he was conscious and aware, he'd not allow Sinnihte anywhere near him, once he realized what she had done.
The tension she held from worry over the blonde began to visibly dissipate as he allowed her to nudge him gently back into his laying position, head now resting on the fabric of her shed cloak, which she hoped would provide him some comfort. Exhaling in a drawn out sigh, she found her eyes wandering the male's features once more, mind wandering until a low voice brought her dark eyes snapping upwards to meet his considerably lighter gaze. Teeth tugging lightly at her own lower lip, the druid allowed her eyes to fall closed for only the briefest of moments as she bowed her head, nodding in acknowledgement. His voice was already beginning to grow stronger, which elicited a smile from the fair skinned woman. "I am only grateful to have found you in time to see to your wound," she responded in the same subdued tone she had used before.
As she spoke once more, explaining what had befallen the boy to the best of her ability, Sinnihte could see his mind working, likely struggling to piece together the information she was giving him, and reconcile it with what he could remember. She couldn't imagine that it was a pleasant experience... At the mention of a young woman, she paused, brow knitting in confusion. Wracking her own mind now, the druid shook her head, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I'm sorry," she spoke at length, fingers finding a stray thread in the fabric of her dress, playing with it idly. "I saw no one but the bandits and you." However, the fact that the young woman in question hadn't been in the company of the bandits she had seen fleeing could only be considered a good sign, right? It would likely mean she had managed to elude their grasp. Chancing to look back up at the blonde, she couldn't help but be slightly awestruck. He had risked himself, putting his life on the line to protect a young woman from those bandits. By the way he spoke, she could only assume that he wasn't familiar with the woman... Shaking her head, she murmured in hushed tones, expressing her wonder, "you risked your life for her..."
When the male asked who it was he owed his life to, she cocked her head to the side, a few stray hairs falling forward into her line of vision. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she made a split second decision. "My name is Sinnihte," the druid responded softly, hopeful that her name wouldn't be recognized as a word in the Old Language, and rather just explained away as a unique name. Though she wasn't particularly optimistic, considering all the pieces that would reveal her for who she really was were falling into place. After she spoke, the conversation lulled, lapsing into a heavy silence. She could feel the heat of a blush rising to her cheeks as the blonde kept his gaze on her, almost studying her...though the slightly far away look in his sapphire eyes betrayed the fact that there was something more to it. Suddenly finding it a bit difficult to swallow, she let out her breath in a shaky exhale, reaching a hand out with the intention of trailing her fingers across his forehead once more. She froze mid-action, however, as she caught the subtle shift in his expression. That, coupled with the fact that his gaze had dropped from her face to her collarbone led her to assume he had finally noticed her brand. The triskelion that marked her as one of the druids.
Her hand trembled slightly as it hovered above her lap, part of her still yearning to reach out and resume her soft motions, against her better judgement. Her heart beat had accelerated as his gaze lingered on the mark, hand dropping back to her lap, and her dark gaze following suit. As he sat up, Sinnihte found herself biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep from pleading with him to lie still. His gaze betrayed his new found suspicion of her, even as his eyes lingered on the interlocking spirals. The druid remained silent as he questioned who she was, unsure of what to say. Keeping her gaze down, she brought a hand up to trace the dark lines of the tattoo that could quite possibly cost her life to be forfeit.
Catching his subtle movement, the turning of his questioning gaze downwards, towards himself rather than her was all the motivation Sinnihte needed to raise her chin, ready and willing to meet his gaze once more, despite the pounding of her heart and trembling of her limbs. If he was to be her death, then she would face it with grace, despite her fear. To have saved his life was more than worth the cost of hers.
She could practically see the male's thoughts racing as all the pieces finally came together in his mind, as they were bound to. A soft melancholy smile worked its way onto her features, and she exhaled sharply in a soundless, humorless laugh as his eyes widened and he cringed away from her. At his next question, she fixed her gaze upon his before responding. "I did what was necessary. Had I not happened upon you, you wouldn't still draw breath." Her voice was soft but firm, resolve apparent through her tone. She had done nothing wrong, and would not allow him to believe that she had by acting guilty. A moment passed, and then, barely audiable, she spoke once more. "I couldn't stand idle and watch you die..."
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Post by Sinnihte on Feb 6, 2012 18:02:15 GMT -5
Relief washed over her features as the male before her stirred, though his features still appeared pained. Despite that, it seemed he was becoming progressively more aware of himself and his surroundings, and Sinnihte allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she shifted her dark gaze to the wound, watching as it slowly knit itself closed, stopping the flow of blood. Her eyes shone amber as she repeated the spell again, urging the stranger through the healing process, and back towards the light of day. Brushing slender fingers across his brow once more, the druid was powerless to help the sigh of relief that escaped her when she saw the boy's eyelids flicker, allowing her a glimpse of sea-blue eyes, before falling immediately shut. "Thank the gods," she breathed, grateful that he was regaining consciousness.
Relief turned to worry, however, when he spoke, voice strained and barely audible, speech failing him halfway through his question. Brow furrowing in concern, she placed a gentle staying hand at his shoulder as he tried to sit up, bidding him lie still. "You shouldn't try to move yet," she murmured, touch lingering, as she attempted to ease him back down to a lying position. "Shh," she shushed him, anticipating he would attempt to ask again, shaking her head, sending dark locks of hair spilling forward into her vision. "You must rest," she demanded gently, removing her cloak, against her better judgment, and folding it up, placing it under the wounded male's head to provide him some comfort while he continued to heal. The gesture left her in a simple gown, bare of sleeves, exposing the symbol at her clavicle that marked her as one of the Druids.
She couldn't help a slight cringe at the weakness his voice betrayed. Despite the fact that he was very clearly on the mend, it pained her to know that she had not been able to assuage his suffering entirely. The fact that he would, in fact, live, though, provided her with some solace. "You were badly wounded," she explained, gesturing to the now-almost fully healed wound at his side in response to the roughly spoken question. "It would appear it was an attack by bandits," her voice was low and gentle, as she attempted to both answer his questions, and soothe his pain. Hopefully his strength would begin to return to him soon, though she doubted it would be an instantaneous recovery, given the amount of blood he had lost before she had been able to heal him. There were some things the body had to work through on its own; blood loss among them.
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, the druid's dark gaze rested upon the male's face, taking account of his features. This man could very easily be the death of her, were he to hold her actions against her. Judging by their current location, she felt it was safe to assume that he was from Camelot, or a noble from one of the outlying villages and estates. No doubt he would be eager to uphold the laws set forth by the king of the land...though she could only hope that the fact that she had only used her magic to preserve his life would count for something. Breath hitching slightly as the thought crossed her mind, she forced a soft smile onto her features. "Though you will surely make a full recovery," she assured the male, resisting the urge to lay a hand aside his cheek, smile growing as she saw a bit of flush returning to them. "You should have the strength to return home within the hour," she predicted, giving him a small nod, as if agreeing with her own statement.
Though she refused to state it outright, Sinnihte was sure that it was more than evident that it was her magic that had aided his recovery. After all, given the severity of his wound, the male would have been unlikely to survive on his own. Taking a deep breath, and exhaling in a soft sigh, she allowed her gaze to wander across his features briefly. She would readily admit, he was quite handsome, with his strong, defined features, and golden hair that was quite a rarity in this land, complimented by bright sapphire eyes. Perhaps, if he was to be the last thing she saw, it wouldn't be such a bad thing.
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Post by Sinnihte on Feb 5, 2012 17:42:25 GMT -5
Bending at the knee, the druid paused in her trek to examine the small, leafy plant growing at the base of an ancient tree. Running a finger along its leaves, a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips; feverfew. Murmuring a soft prayer of thanks to the Old Gods, she grasped the small plant at its base, pulling gently until the roots gave way, freeing it from the ground, and brushing off the extra earth that clung there, before slipping it into a pouch in her satchel. One could never have too many useful herbs, especially those that could aid in tending wounds, or curing sickness. After all, there were some things that were better left to nature, as opposed to magic. At least according to some of the elder druids. In her opinion, though, there was no better time to use magic than when someone required healing -- how terrible it would be to allow a life to slip through your grasp playing with science when the problem could be fixed in other ways?
Pursing her lips, the druid, shook her head, scanning the forest floor for other useful herbs, as they did tend to grow together. The thundering of hooves coming her way startled the girl from her thoughts, sending her scrambling to her feet and away from the worn path, pressing her back snug against a tree, trying to think of a spell to hide her from view, but coming up with none, mind gripped by fear. If it was a knight from Camelot, she would likely be rounded up and executed...though perhaps a bandit would be worse. Holding her breath, her eyes widened as she saw the horse pass, fully saddled and bridled, but without a rider. Brow furrowing in confusion, she pulled the hood of her cloak up, tugging the fabric tight around her shoulders, making sure to cover the mark that identified her as one of the druids, before making her way down the path the unmanned horse had fled from. As she walked the sounds of steel clashing against steel assaulted her ears, as well as several pained cries, all of them distinctly male, a few of which were followed by muffled thuds, presumably of bodies falling to the forest floor. Shuddering at the thought, Sinnihte shook her head, clamping down on her lower lip with her teeth to keep from crying out as two men ran past her through the trees, not paying her any mind as they made their escape.
Their garb would suggest that they were bandits, clothed as simply as they were, in sparse leather armor, adopting the colours of the forest so as to remain unseen. Swallowing her fear, the druid walked tentatively in the direction they had come from, praying they had met another mortal being, rather than a beast who could be waiting for further victims to prey upon. Passing through the trees into a small clearing, she could see her prayer was answered, though she was now wishing it had not been. A young man lay on the ground, clothed quite simply, though the bold blue of his shirt hinted that he was at least of some status, though the fabric was stained dark with blood. Fear all but forgotten, she rushed to the man's side, dropping to her knees beside him, eyes travelling the length of his body swiftly. He was young, no older than her, with rather handsome, defined features. Though that wasn't what concerned her at the moment; beneath the male's hand lay a deep wound, though luckily -- if you could call that luck -- it was the only one he possessed. Dropping the hood of her cloak, exposing her face clearly, she drew her fingers softly across his forehead, brushing away some of the golden hair that was matted to his brow with sweat. His skin was clammy, and cooler than it should have been to the touch.
By the rise and fall of his chest, it was evident that the male was still alive, thank the gods, but Sinnihte could imagine that every breath must have been pained. Against her better judgement, she covered his hand with her own, gently urging it aside, so she could get a better look at the gash. "Shh," she murmured, stroking his forehead once more with her free hand, attempting to soothe him, as she wracked her mind for an appropriate spell. The virtues of medicine be damned -- by the time she could prepare a poultice and bandage his wound, it was likely the boy would have already died. Gently moving the male's hand to rest across his chest, rather than at his side, she murmured a quick spell to sever the ties holding his vest together, pulling that aside, before finding the hem of his shirt, pulling it upwards, exposing his abdomen, and giving her a clearer view of the wound.
"Þurhhæle dolgbenn," she voiced softly, using words of the old language, gritting her teeth as it failed to work the first time. "Þurhhæle dolgbenn," she repeated, placing her hand over the open wound, continuing to repeat the healing spell, determined to continue until it took effect.
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Post by Sinnihte on Feb 5, 2012 0:43:51 GMT -5
Catching her lower lip between her teeth, the young woman pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she made her way through the crowded streets of Camelot, a shiver running up her spine despite the unseasonably warm weather. She wasn't used to such crowds...such noise. It was overwhelming, and she was sure it would show through her body language. She was akin to a fish out of water, looking entirely lost and alone amongst the crowd. It was incredibly dangerous for her to be here, in the great city of Camelot. For any of her kind, actually. Under the reign of Uther Pendragon, magic of all kinds had been outlawed, under the penalty of death. If anyone so much as suspected her of being a sorcerer...ah, but she didn't even dare think on it. Such thoughts would only detract from her focus and cause her to linger, putting her evermore in harm's way.
Exhaling shakily, Sinnihte reached up to brush a stray strand of dark hair out of her vision, tucking it neatly behind her ear. The bold emerald fabric of her cloak drew a fair bit of attention to her, and the druid found herself wishing she had opted for plainer garb for once. Rounding a corner, she spotted the tailor she had been in search of, releasing some of her pent up tension with an audible sigh of relief. Approaching the woman, she offered a small smile, going about the transaction as quickly as possible. All the time she was in Camelot, she felt countless eyes on her, the pressure of avoiding suspicion weighing heavily on her, as though she was carrying far more than just her small satchel. As soon as the coin and the goods had changed hands -- one of the druids had sustained a grievous injury, and they were in dire need of more cloth to fashion bandages from -- Sinnihte turned, grateful to be on her way out of the city. In her distraction, however, she had turned and walked directly into a guard -- one of the royal guards, by the looks of his brightly shining chainmail, and bold crimson and gold colours.
Gasping slightly as the wind was knocked out of her, she swallowed hard, voice trembling slightly as she begged apologies. Bowing her head in a sign of respect, she looked up at the knight, eyes wide. "Please forgive me, sir. I am a stranger to the city, not used to such crowds." When he demanded her name, she blanched for a moment, nearly slipping up and responding with the truth. "R-rose, sir," she eventually forced out. Her given name would have been sure to attract unwanted attentions, especially since it was from the language of the Old Religion. Perhaps even that would warrant her execution. The next question demanded of her was in regards to her business in the city. Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, she responded with near honesty, explaining that her brother had been injured while hunting, and she had needed to buy more cloth to bandage his wounds.
The guard eyed her for a moment longer, seeming to consider her story, before warning her to watch herself, and departing in a slight huff. "Thank the gods," she murmured under her breath, not even aware of her slip of the tongue. Hands still shaking, the druid tucked the bolt of cloth back into her satchel, making for the gates. She couldn't be away from this damnable city a moment too soon.
Tag: Open!
Words: 600
Notes: Drunken babble. Forgive me xP
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Post by Sinnihte on Feb 4, 2012 16:26:21 GMT -5
 | ~ • ~ | Character Basics | ~ • ~ |
.:Name of Character:. Sinnihte - in the tongue of Dragons, it means 'the darkness of perpetual night'
.:Nick Name:. Rose - the name given to her by her mother, for fear the name her father bestowed upon her would cause her grief.
.:Age:. 21
.:Race:. Druid
.:Status:. Nomad
| ~ • ~ | Appearance | ~ • ~ |
.:Physical Appearance:. Quite small in stature, Sinnihte has incredibly pale skin, and rich brown hair, bordering upon being black. Her eyes mirror the colour of her hair, a deep brown that can at times, appear to be pitch black. She prefers simple garb, most of the time, valuing comfort above luxury, often dressing in the style of the druids that wander Albion's forests.
.:Height:. 5'5"
.:Portrayed by:. Ashley Greene
| ~ • ~ | Personality | ~ • ~ |
.:Personality:.
Seeking first and foremost to help those in need, Sinnihte does her best to embody the values of the druids that raised her from a young age. She is, however, a social creature by nature, and generally quite easy to get along with, loving to converse with anyone and everyone, highborn and low alike, including both humans and creatures, which has caused her a fair bit of grief in the past, as the druids tend to prefer to keep to themselves. She is still a bit stubborn and headstrong, though much more softspoken than she once was, and more gentle and reverent of life. She has a tendency to be a bit overly ambitious, which faces her with temptations of straying from the lighter side of magic, which is what is common to the druids. She's not power hungry, by any means, but has a deep thirst for knowledge and drive to improve herself and her capabilities.
.:Strengths:. Wisdom, life experience, strong magical abilities.
.:Weaknesses:. Overconfidence, pride, easily manipulated, overly emotional, temptation.
.:Magic Abilities:. A wide variety of spells at her disposal, as she has been studying and practicing magic since she was young.
.:Special Skills:. n/a
.:Accents:. She speaks softly, with a very faint accent, touched by both English and French dialect.
| ~ • ~ | History | ~ • ~ |
.:Birthplace:. Camelot
.:Family:. Her father Alexander is deceased - he was killed in the great purge, and her mother died of illness several years after.
.:Occupation:. None. If she is in need of funds, however, she will gather and sell herbs, crafting them into poultices and remedies.
.:Current Location of Residence:. Anywhere the Druids see fit to stay.
.:History:. Born twenty-one years ago, Sinnihte never knew her father; he was taken from her and her mother by King Uther Pendragon and his great purge of magic for being a Dragon Lord. Unfortunately, since their power is only passed from father to son, and Alexander had no male heir, the magic of his bloodline died out with him. The only thing of her father that Sinnihte has is her name, which is of the tongue that Dragons and Dragonlords share, given to her by her father at birth for her dark hair and eyes.
From a young age, Sinnihte was fascinated by the arts of magic, and though her mother was fearful that her daughter could be taken from her in the same fashion her husband had been, she taught the young girl all she could, impressed by the child's quick grasp of the arcane arts. When Sinnihte was still but very young, her mother took ill, and wanting the best life possible for her young daughter, a life of freedom, rather than secrecy, she went to seek the help of the Druids, asking them to teach and protect her daughter after she was gone. Seeing the potential the child had, they agreed, accepting Sinnihte as one of their own, teaching her what they could, not only of magic, but of the world.
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