Name: NivioraAge: 28
Nameday: 3548.12.01
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Claimed Hetero, leans more Pan
Craft: Courtesan Apprentice
Rank: Candidate
Location: Western Weyr
Physical Description: Lean, sharp, and all stream-lined edges of steel make up the blade that is Niviora. She has a dancer’s build on a small, lithe frame; a good match for her eventual craft along with caring for her body in the best way that she could. She got most of her mother’s color; something she’s thankful for, as she detests the thought of looking any bit like her father. Her red hair hangs to her shoulders, though it is often tied up and away. A good portion still hangs forward into her face, breaking up and hiding a decent-sized scar over her right temple and forehead. Her eyes are a soft slurry of brown, and in the right lights almost look a shade of deeper red.
Niviora’s clothes are often loose, in warmer colors that hang off her body and show off her movements. She likes to wear a golden sash of her mother’s, hidden away from her and now secretly cherished, on her person like a badge of honor and shame, for she loves her mother even if they’ve fallen out. The edges are embroidered with suns and moons, and only knows it’s somehow connected to her aunt.
Personality: Life has come at Niviora hard and fast, and she prides herself on being quicker. She is resilient, priding herself on learning to think quick and act quicker. Learning to dance from her mother has her thinking quickly, learning to try and anticipate your opponent partner’s moves and move in tandem. When Jacira left her to take Sapheria back to Courtesan Hold, she had to make her plans carefully and quickly -- even if those plans fell through, it was a meal ticket. A joke or jab at her expense is laughed off, shrugging off the little things if there’s no true harm meant, or if someone didn’t know. However, Niviora can also be just as eager to launch back with insults and aggression, though she hasn’t properly fought someone with her fists in many turns. She’s just as eager to get her blood boiling to have a verbal fight as much as she used to enjoy a physical one, near delights in the challenge of it -- especially a match of wit.
The sky's the limit for Niviora, with no glass ceiling in sight. With a rougher, dirt start to life, and knowing her family has achieved great things, Niviora has set her sights high and proud. She will impress, stun her family, stun her mother who never glanced back with that little snit of a daughter she saved out of the gutter like a mewling kitten. Yet her sights on her future have turned her vision for the future to the point of unrealistic, and were anyone to hear it they might laugh. Why shouldn’t she impress a queen like her aunt? Grow a following and start her own Weyr? Her desire to be known, to make her mark almost verge on fanatical -- she will make her mark on Pern, she is certain. While clutches have come and gone, Niviora has, truly, looked at how slim her chances are -- and though her ambitions are high... to be able to be loved by a dragon, any dragon...
There's zest for life that runs deep through Niviora, for she is rather animated through her daily life. It’s hard to not see her moving about with a bit of pep in her step, to see her laughing at a joke, striking up a conversation with someone around her simply for the hell of it. She doesn’t shy away from what could possibly be an awkward conversation, or if she is clearly outranked. Friends are an asset, a boon to her and each other -- and she seeks to make connections with people all around her in many ways. Niviora is destined for greatness, after all. She knows her place in the eventual chain of command, so she can happily play the part of the lowly candidate and show respect for those of greater rank. She’s certainly not above taking back her paces if she crosses a boundary, but will tread those waters more carefully from then on.
Positive Trait List Resilient, Ambitious, Lively
Negative Trait List Quixotic, Truculent, Arrogant
History: Born to a small minor hold loyal to Western, Niviora is born to her mother Jacira in the cold winter months toward the end of the turn. Her father, absent for months, had spent a pretty mark to keep Jacira around for a while -- but after hearing his pretty mistress was with child. Not wanting word to reach his wife, he’d all but abandoned Jacira at the Hold after she’d been towards the middle of her pregnancy. The disconnect is clear between mother and child, as Niviora grew up knowing her mother’s coldness had been brought on by her father leaving. As a young babe, she did all she could to try to make her mother happy … to no avail.
When she was middling, barely breaching eleven, change happened so rapidly in Niviora’s life that she could barely blink. Her mother became besotted with a young orphan girl, who made her mother smile like the girl had tried for turns. Yet all she could feel for this young child so dependant on her mother, looking at her with wide, cute eyes and a pretty, tiny face was contempt. Anger boiled over easier, and she found herself picking fights with the hold kids for the littlest of things. A particular nasty fight left Niviora with a nasty scar across her face, after tumbling into a table. Jacira, suddenly fearing for her child (as well as their place in the Hold), began to teach young Niviora to dance and hone her body into shape. Niv, sadly, ate it right up -- having her mother’s attention, working with her to learn something new. She became her mother’s apprentice, delighting in having Jacira’s attention all to herself. It came with the stipulation that she not rough house with the boys anymore -- and Niviora agreed, for while she couldn’t physically fight, her mother had said nothing about verbal ones.
It lasted four turns. Four happy, blissful turns of Niviora ignoring her mother’s favorite daughter for the crumbs she could have. It came crashing down when Sapheria, the little brat, was showing such prowess and wanting to learn Niviora’s mother’s craft -- had called the woman mother right in front of her. Perhaps attacking her had been in poor taste, yet Niviora was young, blinded by anger that someone would have the audacity of calling her mother as their own. She'd only punched, but Sapheria falling against a table had left a large gash across her forehead. It would leave a scar, that was certain. Jacira had been cold to her for the rest of the night, tending to Sapheria’s wound. As the night progressed on, Niviora had worried as her mother continued to ignore her. Perhaps it had been too much...
Jacira and Sapheria had been gone by morning, with only a note wishing Niviora well in life. Niv had broken her promise, one she had kept up so many turns -- and while she wasn't combating hold boys, it was still a promise broken.
It was the first time in Niviora’s life when she felt truly devastated, had rocked the young girl to her core. If she could have taken it back, had kept her jealousy in check. She’d attacked a child after all, only a few turns her junior or not. Niviora had wept all day, mourning her actions -- mourning her mother, and a girl who should have been her sister.
The next day, Niviora stepped out from the room she would be losing soon unless she did something to secure it -- or secure her own place in another’s bed. She would stuff down her anger, stuff down her mourning at least beyond the surface. She would carry the weight as a reminder to not lash out -- even if she relished in a verbal spat, no longer could she use her fists to solve her problems. Niv honed herself, worked on the lessons her mother had taught her as a dancer, worked on being kinder -- making herself a better person.
It wasn’t long after that she met him, a handsome man who stole her heart and ferreted it away as he sang her praises, sweet nothings that made her feel like the most important person in the world -- and eight long months later, she bore him a son. Or, if he knows he has a son -- for like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he exited her life before her small son came into the world. He was… tiny, and gross. But she owed to try and give him some kind of life, and she would try.
The search rider had been a surprise, and her mind latched onto the possibilities that came from dragon life. Impressing a queen? Fitting for her. Weren’t queens more likely to pick hold girls? Delight at making her mark had her jumping at the chance, as she entered candidacy at the age of 16 -- and her tiny son having been left in the care of a Hold woman who had recently had a son of her own..
Turns have slipped away, as Niviora becomes more desperate with each and every clutch that passes by her. She wants, desperately, to make her mark on Pern, to prove that she’s not just something for everyone to leave behind.
Other: Ride or die, amirite?
Candidate Specific Questions
Do you want them to have an official Search RP? No
Do you understand they will age every passing year regardless if you're there to RP the or not? Yes
Do you want them to have a possible Stands Impression? No
