Difference between revisions of "Neve Greenmarch"

Revision as of 19:05, 22 December 2020

Neve Greenmarch
Social Rank	5
Fealty	Valardin
House	Greenmarch
Gender	Female
Age	22
Religion	Shamanism/Pantheon
Vocation	Noble
Height	5'7
Hair Color	Blond
Eye Color	Blue
Skintone	Milk
Family
Parents	Muiryn Greenmarch
Uncles/Aunts	Maeve Greenmarch, Murdoch Greenmarch, Marcel Greenmarch, Alda Greenmarch
Cousins	Marian Redrain, Marius Greenmarch, Monique Greenmarch, Rowan Greenmarch, Niamh Greenmarch, Fiachra Valardin, Eirlys Greenmarch, Ianna Greenmarch, Margret Greenmarch, Cullen Greenmarch, Jamie Greenmarch
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Description

Neve is a wild thing brought up in a world of poetic earth and reverent silence. She is full of wonder and always smiling, finding love in her heart for any and all who cross her path. Blonde hair falls in wild waves and curls and braids and dreads often adorned with little gifts of the earth, glass beads, feathers, shells and ribbons. While she loves the many silks and satins and laces of Arvum, she's often barefoot beneath them - a perfect mix of a little shave heathen and a Lady of the realm.

{w({nNeve is a constant whirlwind of extrovertedness and enthusiasim. A positivity and a brilliant if awkward smile are never far from her as she seems to have love in her heart for every person and thing around her. From people, to birds, to trees, to the structures around her - she seems to find a beauty and wonderment in every little thing around her and she radiates her sense of whimsy and wonder with little ability to reduce or stop it.

Blonde bust-length locks with a wildness all their own, her hair is straightened except for a small braid of hair that runs from her roots on the right side near the front of her face on the right side about halfway down her face ending near ear-length. Within that braid is hair that is of a lighter blonde than her own with a small black ribbon ties into the hair and the braid leaving 4 inches of the ribbon at the bottom free to flutter at the top which often catches in a wind. At the top there is a glass bead and several feathers poking out from within the bead with one at the bottom making the braid extra secure with a small knot kept within the bead. It is a remembrance of a fallen loved one.

Two ribbons representing lost loved ones are tired into her hair of a full foot's length. One black and one green. They are tied into her hair from behind her head on the right and left side into a braid with the rest of the hair left to fly free. Blue eyes, a moderate nose and modestly full lips round out the features of her face along will full cheeks.

A 4 foot long starkly red ribbon is tied into her hair at the back of her head near the roots with a partial braid of about 4 inches on lengh before the braid is tied off with the ribbon falling free independant of hair right down to rest over the curve of her rather plumply shaped rear in the few moments she isn't in movement. Often it can be caught by the wind and be rather attention-grabbing.

Having the curves of femininity she is perhaps a bit more of a pear than a hourglass. For from thin or waifish she has a full midsection to go along with the curves from above yet one would certainly not call her fat. Below her her hips flare dramatically to have an excess of not only what she herself refers to as a 'cushy tushy' but strong thighs leading down into very strongly dominant legs.{w){n

Personality

In the Greenwood Forest Neve was always known as a bright, smiling, bubbly girl of whimsical nature that was always a little weird. Those that grew up with her cannot deny that something changed in the forest when she was present, it became a little more brighter. The wind a little more talkative. The trees swished just a little more in her presence. She wore her heart on her sleeve and was filled with whimsy, love, and a curious nature. She could have bouts of self-doubt and would seek out family, friends, and hugs and treats to feel better about herself and feel comfort. She was a rather bratty little girl, stomping of feet, never wanting to wear shoes or her dresses, and would hurl boots and things at her 'pa Muiryn, even though she loved him dearly. One thing you could count on from Neve - a completely honest truth. Not always making the best of sense, she was direct, shy, and stumbled on social nicities.

When she first came to the big city, she was completely over induldgent in the finery, the treats, even falling in love. She became so obsessed she was a burden to her family. Through their support, and a lot of mis-steps she's blossomed into a curvy woman whom has seen violence, pain, and suffering.

Spending years in Arx has made her realize she loves her forest, and she loves the people of the city. She loves people, and is a social creature. Not much has changed since she was a child, she may be less bratty, but is still impressed by the finery, the people, the beauty. She is a complete extrovert and you see every little emotion flow through her. She loves with all her heart, and is a force of rampant positivity. She is wild and unrestrained with a touch of refinement around the edges. She is prone to impulsive hugging, bouts of self-doubt, fidgeting, and loves people with hair - be it on the head or on the face. She can connect with people over time or immediately and has a whimsicalness to her nonsense. To this day still unrestrained and wild - a bit of the city has bled into her where she does tend to think a little more before she acts - except when she doesn't.

Background

Neve's parents both died the day she was born. In fact it is said that they both took their last breath the same moment she took her first. A battle had arisen, an old feud for territory and Roark rode out with his brothers to defend their home. At the same moment - Moira went into labor. It is almost impossible for anyone to know the moment of death for each of them - but it was simply understood that they died together - as though some unseen force had willed it so. In her world, that meant something. No sacrifice was made in vain, no offering went ignored or unappreciated. The world moved around them, and they with it and a part of it and always in tune. However, what that may have meant for Neve was always a mystery for her and nothing but a story of long ago, about people she had never known and knew nothing about other than they had loved her.

Neve was saved that day by Muiryn Greenmarch. He had watched her father die and laid prayers upon his body and made promises to a dying man that he never forgot. Neve has often wondered about that moment, how horrible and heavy it must have been for him to have suffered such deep loses and simultaniously have been shuffled neatly and unexpectly into fatherhood. But 18 years later, they were no less the worse for wear from it. So what if she may have spent her early childhood with her hair cropped like a boys because he could not deal with her howls when he tried to braid it. He put her atop her first Elk and taught her how to hunt, how to make her own bow and fletches and how to give thanks for every living thing that offered it's life to sustain them. He taught her how to skin and use every part of the beast, so nothing went wasted. He taught her of their people and their culture and for better or worse - her childhood was as charmed as a little heathens could be. It instilled a wilderness inside of her that could never quite be capped or tamed. As though she were always waiting for that moment when the wind would come along and whisk her away to all the things she's not done before.

Neve was Thirteen when the Greenmarch took the steps to join the Compact - and while her world was thrown into a temporary chaos of passions and pride - Neve was utterly charmed. She loved the life her ancestors and family have carved out for themselves, the work of their land and the hearts of their people but she was born knowing that possibility was endless - and finally... finally they may begin to see just how endless it may truly be. The night Muiryn told her they woulnd't be leaving Greenmarch for Arvum any time soon, was the first time she'd screamed at her foster father - and while it probably wasn't the last, it was the only one that lingered like heartache in her memory. She'd been more careful after that and bided her time - knowing that her wind would be waiting. So now five years have passed and she has grown into a woman - though still windswept and wild. She is finally in Arvum - the heart of Arx - where she expects every light to sparkle and every voice to sing and praise. She's heard tails of parties and gowns and dresses... She's heard stories of the elves and other creatures thought lost to lore and myth... She's heard of the beautifully appointed salons, the lush, rich finary... and all manner of things that she's never quite been able to manage. She has nothing but confidence that her two worlds the old and the new both, will be able to live in beautiful harmony.