Rings of Honor

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Username:

Kingsley O'Connor

Groups:

Registered users

Character:

Kingsley O'Connor

Character Race:

Astral. Whatever that means.

Gender:

Female

Location:

Around.

Character Portrait:

Place of Origin:

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland

Profession:

Singer, stable hand

Appearance:

She was a small girl of 19 years, hitting just at 5'1" if she was lucky. Her short stature made it easy for her to remain away from most of the screening gazes of the many residents of RhyDin, and that didn't bother her one bit.

The lush fall of chestnut hair had gone dark, as if the shadow of night had decided to take residence, and it was now a mixture of gentle curls and light wisps that seemed to move of their own accord. That wasn't quite the way of things, however, and one would discover why should they be opportune enough to see the young girl without a hood drawn up over her head. Whispers of pale smoke wove their way through each strand of that dark hair, slipping and shifting and rearranging itself around her head as if trying to create some sort of distorted halo, a lingering gift from Purgatory.

Her eyes were vibrant as ever, a mixture of every green shade possible. There was depth within them and more often than not she found herself incapable of preventing her emotions from seeping their own color into them, hues of gold saturating the irises like iridescent and web-like veins.

---

She was quiet, kind and slightly naive. Her undying Irish lilt was thankfully a good thing in regards to her singing, the one thing that she could do effortlessly and with undoubted beauty.

There was more than a handful of little-known skills that Kingsley had, one of them being her natural knack at cooking, specifically baking. Archery was another mostly-hidden skill, as was the writing of her own songs, those of which usually didn't make it out of the depths of her worn notebook. It was probably best that way anyway.

In addition to all of these little things, Kingsley was beginning to find herself the possessor of a multitude of various abilities, most of which she had no idea how to call forth or even control, and even more she didn't know what they were for. The most recent is the distinct smell that accompanied the exposure of her blood; flowers of all kinds, the most powerful of which being lavender, lilac and rose. It was pleasant to most, but to some, mostly those of an evil nature or with repugnant chaos in their soul, it was like the first stab of a drug, the hunger of which only the consumption of the source could it be subdued.

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