Post by Lucky on May 18, 2008 15:03:20 GMT -5
Name: Geneva Beth Tessler
Nicknames: Neeva
Age: Sixteen and a half
Gender: Female
Clique: Scholarship Pity Party/Untouchables/Unnoticed
Clique Status: Eldest
Picture:
Play by: Anne Marie van Dijk
Appearance:
Neeva could be called beautiful if not for the absurd hierarchy system of the times. As a poor girl on the first year of her late given scholarship from the rich family she will one day serve, it is unlikely that anyone will ever look at her and think more than ‘pity the poor girl’. But, given a closer look Neeva is diamond in the rough. She does not give much thought to her appearance; most of her mind is focused on rising past her lot in life and changing her stars.
The poor girl has long dark brown hair which falls to the small of her back when left down. It falls in soft waves which have been cut to one uniform length with out bangs or layers. Generally the girl ties it back into a loose low pony tail. Most often the tail is tied with ribbon, string, twine, ripped pieces of fabric…whatever is handy.
Her face is an elongated heart shape with slightly tan skin and prominent bone structure. The small straight nose with a slightly larger tip overlooks full lips a few shades redder than her skin. Her eyes are large and wide, leading to the slightly surprised look on her face when she has no other emotion showing. The irises are bright green with a rim of darker green around the outside blending in a jagged line with the lighter center.
Fine almost black eyebrows and long curved lashes add to the expressive nature of her face. A small beauty mark, nothing more than a slightly raised black freckle, sits about half an inch from the corner of her left eye. She has a small, pale scar below her hairline from an accident as a child which she does not care to remember.
Her body is relatively thin and her head barely reached the five one mark, giving her a slight build, distinct fragility, and delicate overall look. Her body, though well past puberty, is flat as a board lacking both bust and hips; a child bearing girl she is not. Her face is small as is the rest of her body; and she is light and easily picked up and moved.
She wears simple gowns made of rough cheap material when not in uniform. These clothes are practical and befitting of a girl in her standing. Her shoes are sturdy and plain, made of light leather. All in all the uniform of a poor girl elevated beyond her place, trying not to stand out. Her wardrobe was paid for by the family paying her tuition, the family of the soon-to-be-children she will one day govern. The only piece of wardrobe she truly owns is a simple necklace she wears all the time. It consists of a small chip of wood on a thin leather thong. The chip is darkened by an indeterminate fluid, most likely blood, and has a date burned onto it.
Personality:
Neeva is a bit of a paradox.
She is, overall, a sunny girl. As a child she dealt with some difficult circumstances and had two choices: become cold and bitter or make the best of it. She chose the second option. As an optimist she sees the best in people, believes people are inherently good, loves lost causes, never give up on people, and refuses to burn bridges. She seems to trust easily but it takes a lot to truly get into her heart. She often makes surface relationships and has trouble moving deeper.
Before she was sent to the academy she was a maid in the household of the family paying her tuition. As such Neeva has developed the personality of an obedient servant. Around adults and those she does not know she is quiet and speaks when spoken too. She keeps her head down and her mouth closed. Orders are respected and acted upon seemingly without thought. Her meek exterior hides a fire and independence out of place in a low ranking girl. On the inside her personality, as well as being bright and kind, is fiery and powerful. She will fight passionately for what she believes and who she believes in.
She is open-minded and compassionate, never giving up on anyone or anything. She loves to sit in gardens and look at the sun. She enjoys the dabbling in politics, a strange pastime for a woman and even stranger for a peasant. She would do almost anything for the people who are in her trust, and generally for those who aren't. She is often self sacrificing, and is reprimanded for doing things above her place.
A girl ahead of her time she has strong morals and hates all forms of injustice; those between genders, social classes, and the hierarchy of the time. She loves broken things, believing their charm and beauty is only intensified by their inadequacies. She has strong opinions which she voices under the cover of darkness. Given the chance, she’d make the perfect martyr, and has a penchant for impulsivity and spontaneity.
She has the gift of knowing what to say in awkward situation and in situations where the words used carry more weight than they ought to. She can talk people up or down, depending on the situation. She gives wonderful advice but has trouble taking her own. Generally she is a ray of sun shine in a cloudy day and says naïve things which can get her in trouble. She is not afraid to speak her mind which can cause her problems.
If anyone above her took the time to get to know the scholarship rag and listened to what she had to say he or she might be surprised at what the quiet demeanor she shows hides.
History:
The girl-child was born to a young mother, only sixteen herself, who no where near ready to be a mother. As such she was not a terribly good one. Within a few months of the child’s birth the woman realized that raising her little girl in the streets of London became too much of a challenge for a homeless thief. A good mother would have left her daughter on the door step of a well-to-do establishment: an orphanage, a church, a hospital even. But the woman did not.
Fourteen year old street urchin, Ethan, went dumpster diving every day. He could find the best -only slightly rotten- food and -only slightly damaged- merchandise there. He had found remnants of grand meals and even grander deserts. He had found fine clothes with only a few rips. He had found small trinkets. When he was younger he had found toys. He sometimes even found books. But on a cold day in late April Ethan found the strangest treasure in his life. What first he assumed was a bundle of rags turned out to be, in fact, a child. More than that it turned out to be a baby girl, only three months old, and what would become the rest of the boy’s life.
Young Ethan knew that, at fourteen, he was not capable of being a father, so he took on the role of older brother. Utilizing the tight-knit community of the poor living in the streets of London he raised the child, teaching her and loving her. Folded along with the rags the child had been wrapped in was a letter from the mother, a girl who Ethan would never know was only two years older than himself, telling of her love for the little girl, the date the child was born, her inability to care for her, and a name for the child; Geneva Beth Owen. The boy had to assume that the woman’s last name had been Owen, but, out of love for the baby and scorn for the woman who would leave a gift like the little girl in a dumpster, he changed her last name to his own; Tessler.
As the only family each had Ethan and Neeva formed a strong bong. They were like brother and sister, father and child, and best friends all rolled into one. He would do anything for the infant, and as she grew into a small child he did his best to protect her and to give her the things a growing girl needed. He would dive in gutters and find her things. Any possessions the youngster owned in the first ten years of her life were second hand. Her favorites were a small battered metal box with a lock but no key he had found her, an old worn teddy bear, a muted quilt also from scraps, and a small collection of intricate buttons.
A Neeva of nine years old never noticed the quality of the toys her daddy brought her improving. Even if the girl had she would never have thought anything of the change. The innocent child did not think anything of Ethan’s comings and goings, or of the rumors that a bandit had been breaking into the houses of the richer inhabitants of London. The rumors went on for months, and soon raids came. The young child, ten at the onset of the raids, was hidden by her daddy; she was never allowed to be captured, never allowed to see what happened to urchins who disobeyed the authorities.
The small family unit moved around a lot in the months the authorities lowered themselves to search the slums. The night Ethan entered the shack he shared with his baby girl late and at a run would be one Neeva would remember for the rest of her life. The young man, twenty four at the time, had not answered the child when she had asked what was wrong. He had only picked her up and hidden her on the top of a ledge, warning her to hide. “Be silent and still love”. Neeva, always adoring her daddy, and never questioning his knowledge or goodness, listened, only peaking an eye over the edge of her hiding spot.
When the constables came it was all over quickly. They had not bothered to ask questions, only attacked. In a single flash of the muzzle of an unknown gun Neeva’s life was shattered. The tiny child hid her face and muffled her tears in her ratty stuffed bear.
Two days later the headlines read “Notorious Mayfair Burglar Killed”. The story was short and glorified the constables, making the murder seem justified and a service to the community. They never spoke about killing a little girl’s innocence, taking a loving –if misguided- family from her, or uprooting her life. A few hours after the body was removed the child climbed down, slipping on the ledge and cutting her head. She sat in the pool of blood crying, the light going out of her eyes.
When the other street urchins found Neeva they took her in for a few days, bandaged her cut, and put her to bed. She was turned out of the community as an unprofitable member the next day. Left to her own devices the girl made a choice. She grew up over the course of a few days and cleaned herself up. Taking her few worldly possessions, and her newly cheery attitude, she presented herself at eleven years of age, at one of the wealthy houses her brother had burgled and asked for a job as a maid.
The next five years of her life were a blur of waiting on rich people and doing other servant tasks. When the young woman turned sixteen the family’s eldest daughter, near her age, was engaged. In preparation for the girl’s children the family sent the servant who showed most promise in the tasks of governess-ship –Neeva- away to Florence’s School for the Young to learn her trade. As a new student Neeva is aware that she is older than many of the other new children, but accepts it. She is just waiting for the day when she can prove herself to be something more than an unprofitable member of the community. She is always on the look out for a way to change her life, and always remembers the ones who shaped her life.
Fears:
~The dark
~Getting too close
~Pain of others
~Being forgotten
~Forgetting
~Staying where she is
~Crowds ie: More than three people at once
~Not Quite Frozen Lakes
Likes:
~Nature
~Storms
~Instrumental music
~Sun beams
~Love
~Freedom
~Trust
~Things which are broken
~Overcoming Adversity
~Faith
~Friendship
~Chocolate
~Strawberrys
~Family
Dislikes:
~Liars
~Betrayal
~Broken Promises
~Stereotypes
~Closed-mindedness
~Hierarchy
~Bullies
~Catty people
~People who are full of themselves
~Nobility
~Constables
~Forgetting
Dreams: Of falling in love. Of being a grand lady. Of changing the world. Of leaving her mark. Of being remembered for something. Of finding something more than this world.
Anything you'd like to add?I can see some fun inter-class drama here!
Nicknames: Neeva
Age: Sixteen and a half
Gender: Female
Clique: Scholarship Pity Party/Untouchables/Unnoticed
Clique Status: Eldest
Picture:
Play by: Anne Marie van Dijk
Appearance:
Neeva could be called beautiful if not for the absurd hierarchy system of the times. As a poor girl on the first year of her late given scholarship from the rich family she will one day serve, it is unlikely that anyone will ever look at her and think more than ‘pity the poor girl’. But, given a closer look Neeva is diamond in the rough. She does not give much thought to her appearance; most of her mind is focused on rising past her lot in life and changing her stars.
The poor girl has long dark brown hair which falls to the small of her back when left down. It falls in soft waves which have been cut to one uniform length with out bangs or layers. Generally the girl ties it back into a loose low pony tail. Most often the tail is tied with ribbon, string, twine, ripped pieces of fabric…whatever is handy.
Her face is an elongated heart shape with slightly tan skin and prominent bone structure. The small straight nose with a slightly larger tip overlooks full lips a few shades redder than her skin. Her eyes are large and wide, leading to the slightly surprised look on her face when she has no other emotion showing. The irises are bright green with a rim of darker green around the outside blending in a jagged line with the lighter center.
Fine almost black eyebrows and long curved lashes add to the expressive nature of her face. A small beauty mark, nothing more than a slightly raised black freckle, sits about half an inch from the corner of her left eye. She has a small, pale scar below her hairline from an accident as a child which she does not care to remember.
Her body is relatively thin and her head barely reached the five one mark, giving her a slight build, distinct fragility, and delicate overall look. Her body, though well past puberty, is flat as a board lacking both bust and hips; a child bearing girl she is not. Her face is small as is the rest of her body; and she is light and easily picked up and moved.
She wears simple gowns made of rough cheap material when not in uniform. These clothes are practical and befitting of a girl in her standing. Her shoes are sturdy and plain, made of light leather. All in all the uniform of a poor girl elevated beyond her place, trying not to stand out. Her wardrobe was paid for by the family paying her tuition, the family of the soon-to-be-children she will one day govern. The only piece of wardrobe she truly owns is a simple necklace she wears all the time. It consists of a small chip of wood on a thin leather thong. The chip is darkened by an indeterminate fluid, most likely blood, and has a date burned onto it.
Personality:
Neeva is a bit of a paradox.
She is, overall, a sunny girl. As a child she dealt with some difficult circumstances and had two choices: become cold and bitter or make the best of it. She chose the second option. As an optimist she sees the best in people, believes people are inherently good, loves lost causes, never give up on people, and refuses to burn bridges. She seems to trust easily but it takes a lot to truly get into her heart. She often makes surface relationships and has trouble moving deeper.
Before she was sent to the academy she was a maid in the household of the family paying her tuition. As such Neeva has developed the personality of an obedient servant. Around adults and those she does not know she is quiet and speaks when spoken too. She keeps her head down and her mouth closed. Orders are respected and acted upon seemingly without thought. Her meek exterior hides a fire and independence out of place in a low ranking girl. On the inside her personality, as well as being bright and kind, is fiery and powerful. She will fight passionately for what she believes and who she believes in.
She is open-minded and compassionate, never giving up on anyone or anything. She loves to sit in gardens and look at the sun. She enjoys the dabbling in politics, a strange pastime for a woman and even stranger for a peasant. She would do almost anything for the people who are in her trust, and generally for those who aren't. She is often self sacrificing, and is reprimanded for doing things above her place.
A girl ahead of her time she has strong morals and hates all forms of injustice; those between genders, social classes, and the hierarchy of the time. She loves broken things, believing their charm and beauty is only intensified by their inadequacies. She has strong opinions which she voices under the cover of darkness. Given the chance, she’d make the perfect martyr, and has a penchant for impulsivity and spontaneity.
She has the gift of knowing what to say in awkward situation and in situations where the words used carry more weight than they ought to. She can talk people up or down, depending on the situation. She gives wonderful advice but has trouble taking her own. Generally she is a ray of sun shine in a cloudy day and says naïve things which can get her in trouble. She is not afraid to speak her mind which can cause her problems.
If anyone above her took the time to get to know the scholarship rag and listened to what she had to say he or she might be surprised at what the quiet demeanor she shows hides.
History:
The girl-child was born to a young mother, only sixteen herself, who no where near ready to be a mother. As such she was not a terribly good one. Within a few months of the child’s birth the woman realized that raising her little girl in the streets of London became too much of a challenge for a homeless thief. A good mother would have left her daughter on the door step of a well-to-do establishment: an orphanage, a church, a hospital even. But the woman did not.
Fourteen year old street urchin, Ethan, went dumpster diving every day. He could find the best -only slightly rotten- food and -only slightly damaged- merchandise there. He had found remnants of grand meals and even grander deserts. He had found fine clothes with only a few rips. He had found small trinkets. When he was younger he had found toys. He sometimes even found books. But on a cold day in late April Ethan found the strangest treasure in his life. What first he assumed was a bundle of rags turned out to be, in fact, a child. More than that it turned out to be a baby girl, only three months old, and what would become the rest of the boy’s life.
Young Ethan knew that, at fourteen, he was not capable of being a father, so he took on the role of older brother. Utilizing the tight-knit community of the poor living in the streets of London he raised the child, teaching her and loving her. Folded along with the rags the child had been wrapped in was a letter from the mother, a girl who Ethan would never know was only two years older than himself, telling of her love for the little girl, the date the child was born, her inability to care for her, and a name for the child; Geneva Beth Owen. The boy had to assume that the woman’s last name had been Owen, but, out of love for the baby and scorn for the woman who would leave a gift like the little girl in a dumpster, he changed her last name to his own; Tessler.
As the only family each had Ethan and Neeva formed a strong bong. They were like brother and sister, father and child, and best friends all rolled into one. He would do anything for the infant, and as she grew into a small child he did his best to protect her and to give her the things a growing girl needed. He would dive in gutters and find her things. Any possessions the youngster owned in the first ten years of her life were second hand. Her favorites were a small battered metal box with a lock but no key he had found her, an old worn teddy bear, a muted quilt also from scraps, and a small collection of intricate buttons.
A Neeva of nine years old never noticed the quality of the toys her daddy brought her improving. Even if the girl had she would never have thought anything of the change. The innocent child did not think anything of Ethan’s comings and goings, or of the rumors that a bandit had been breaking into the houses of the richer inhabitants of London. The rumors went on for months, and soon raids came. The young child, ten at the onset of the raids, was hidden by her daddy; she was never allowed to be captured, never allowed to see what happened to urchins who disobeyed the authorities.
The small family unit moved around a lot in the months the authorities lowered themselves to search the slums. The night Ethan entered the shack he shared with his baby girl late and at a run would be one Neeva would remember for the rest of her life. The young man, twenty four at the time, had not answered the child when she had asked what was wrong. He had only picked her up and hidden her on the top of a ledge, warning her to hide. “Be silent and still love”. Neeva, always adoring her daddy, and never questioning his knowledge or goodness, listened, only peaking an eye over the edge of her hiding spot.
When the constables came it was all over quickly. They had not bothered to ask questions, only attacked. In a single flash of the muzzle of an unknown gun Neeva’s life was shattered. The tiny child hid her face and muffled her tears in her ratty stuffed bear.
Two days later the headlines read “Notorious Mayfair Burglar Killed”. The story was short and glorified the constables, making the murder seem justified and a service to the community. They never spoke about killing a little girl’s innocence, taking a loving –if misguided- family from her, or uprooting her life. A few hours after the body was removed the child climbed down, slipping on the ledge and cutting her head. She sat in the pool of blood crying, the light going out of her eyes.
When the other street urchins found Neeva they took her in for a few days, bandaged her cut, and put her to bed. She was turned out of the community as an unprofitable member the next day. Left to her own devices the girl made a choice. She grew up over the course of a few days and cleaned herself up. Taking her few worldly possessions, and her newly cheery attitude, she presented herself at eleven years of age, at one of the wealthy houses her brother had burgled and asked for a job as a maid.
The next five years of her life were a blur of waiting on rich people and doing other servant tasks. When the young woman turned sixteen the family’s eldest daughter, near her age, was engaged. In preparation for the girl’s children the family sent the servant who showed most promise in the tasks of governess-ship –Neeva- away to Florence’s School for the Young to learn her trade. As a new student Neeva is aware that she is older than many of the other new children, but accepts it. She is just waiting for the day when she can prove herself to be something more than an unprofitable member of the community. She is always on the look out for a way to change her life, and always remembers the ones who shaped her life.
Fears:
~The dark
~Getting too close
~Pain of others
~Being forgotten
~Forgetting
~Staying where she is
~Crowds ie: More than three people at once
~Not Quite Frozen Lakes
Likes:
~Nature
~Storms
~Instrumental music
~Sun beams
~Love
~Freedom
~Trust
~Things which are broken
~Overcoming Adversity
~Faith
~Friendship
~Chocolate
~Strawberrys
~Family
Dislikes:
~Liars
~Betrayal
~Broken Promises
~Stereotypes
~Closed-mindedness
~Hierarchy
~Bullies
~Catty people
~People who are full of themselves
~Nobility
~Constables
~Forgetting
Dreams: Of falling in love. Of being a grand lady. Of changing the world. Of leaving her mark. Of being remembered for something. Of finding something more than this world.
Anything you'd like to add?I can see some fun inter-class drama here!
