Post by Formorian Carlisle on Mar 19, 2008 1:22:34 GMT -5
Character Basics
Full Name: Formorian Carlisle
Nickname(s): Mori
Birthday: May 15th
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
Desired Position: Vocal/Choral Instructor
Character Information
Personality:
Shy and timid at first, but head strong and forward when she knows what she wants. Exploration is beyond Formorian but when she arrives in Paris and the mysterious happenings of the Opera Ghost at the Populaire. Everyone's lives change, including the once strict, and dutified Formorian.
From the roof top of the Opera Populaire, to her country house and deep beneath the cold stone of the Opera House. Formorian's curiosity just might wind her in the deepest trouble she'll ever face in her once simple life. What awaits her here? Love? Heartache? Despair? Madness? In this the Phantom's Opera.
History:
Born on English soil, [daughter to the Duke of Carlisle] young Formorian was brought up on a large estate near the grounds of Carlisle Wall. A string of history had unfolded before that soil, Scottish blood, and English blood a like had been shed there. Leaving the young blond with a mix of both Lowlander and English woman within her blood.
A light accent of the Lowlanders, mixed with the quirk of English. Formorian was easily known when she moved down lower to London. Where she took up a great interest in art, and music itself. However wealthy her family had been however, she had to learn her own way around in the ever growing world. With a hand for thread work, and a vast knowledge from her studies in Language, and History. It wasn't long before she turned to the age of sixteen and she was happily sent out to do something she hadn't studied for.
Being a Governess to a wealthy family in the French Territory of Calais. Here her English would turn to a fluent French, and a flip of the tongue she easily mastered Spanish right alongside travelers. Her time spent managing not only the children, and being a gracious and overly young chatelaine. The docks and shores of Calais called to her, as if to bid her to find something other than this territory and English land itself.
A cousin who had long since migrated to French soil in Versailles a few miles from the famed city of Paris. Formorian took up her bags once more, and set on a train ride that carried the smell of sulfur in the air as she boarded, and stepped off the rusty tracks. Her luck was growing as her cousin invited her into his home. Where to Formorian's delight a man by the name of 'Reyer' whom Formorian would come to know was a dear friend. Was visiting upon her arrival.
With a great gusto, and much applause when he sampled her nimble fingers on the ivory keys of a Piano. Also hearing the sweet bell like voice that quite simply reminded him of angels singing the praise of God. Reyer immediately offered a chance of a life time! To become a member of the Opera Populaire and her musical family.
Timidly she took up the offer to become the choral instructor of the Corpse de Ballet, and the lead Chorus members. Perhaps life was opening a larger door to her, she only hoped however that an estranged man and those in his pawn like game did not draw her too far from safety.
Random Info
Likes:
- Singing
- Dancing
- Acting
- Performing
- Arts (Music, Plays, Paintings)
- Animals (Horses, Dogs, Cats, Birds)
- Writing (Poems)
- Flowers
- Sewing, Knitting
- Carriage Rides
- Walking in the Park
- Truth, Honesty, Sincerity in others
- Books
- Playing the Organ, Violin, Piano, and Harp
- Catholicism
- Drawing
- Gifts (Recieving of Course)
Dislikes:
- Hunting
- Abuse of Animals
- Snobbish Nobles
- Lack of Self Assurance/Will
- Bullies
- Gossips
- Blasphemers
- Over use of power
- Cruelty to others
- Selfishness
- Infidelity
- Betrayal
- Lack of morals
Fears:
-Being Hurt {Physically/Emotionally}
-Never Finding TRUE Love
-Never Being Good Enough
-Alone
-Insects
Habits:-Worries her bottom lip when she's nervous
-Day Dream A LOT
-Overly Optomistic
Family
Parents: Both deceased
Sibling(s): None.
Relative(s): 1 Cousin. 1 Uncle.
Other
Custom Title: Vocal/Choral Instructor
The magic word: Inside My Mind
Role Play Sample:
Stepping off the train had proven to be something far more difficult that she could've ever imagined. Seated for so long, and then to finally allow her protesting muscles to stretch. She'd almost felt ancient as she made her way down the isles, being bumped by others, or bumping others to which she apologized a thousand times over. Taking up her smaller suitcases, she walked along the side of the station her glittering pale blue eyes searching for the rest of her items.
The sulfur of the train grew thick, and the steam just made the air itself unbreathable. Composing herself to not choke outright she hailed to one of the men. Who simply grunted at her accented French, and she was left to wait several minutes for her belongings. A large load of eight cases, and three chests belonged to her. Once all had been accounted for catching the eye of awaiting cabby's proved just as difficult.
'How rude!' She thought inwardly as she waved her kerchief and still the carriages sailed by. All it took was for a man to raise his silver studded, cuffed hand and the cabs came to a halt. Annoyed beyond belief now the young woman, lightly adjusted her hat to block the rays of the sun raining down upon her. The golden glow radiating off her platinum blond hair, and giving her fair cheeks a small flush.
Formorian stepped alongside a dashing young man, his clothing easily some upper class man. Perhaps a banker or some other sort of standing. Her dress was simple, for she was a demure sort of girl rather she was twenty-one seemingly wearing clothes preferably used by her mother. Yet if she ever chose to come out of her shell she'd make for a striking beauty. As for the man beside her, she waited for a cabby to trot by and in a moment she bumped his hand up in a half hailing manner. The cab stopped and she beamed in a smile.
"I'm so sorry Monsieur so clumsy of me!" She said sweetly, and with little more she rushed to the cab. Gave her directions, and watched with a careful eye as her things were loaded. Once she was seated safely inside and on her way she relaxed openly in the privacy of the box.
Too soon was she at the grandeur of the Opera Populaire, and he greeting was just as bland as her search for her luggage. Unloaded and standing like some fool before the Populaire, she entered into the foyer. Her accented French ringing out through the obviously empty entrance. But what else could she do? Bring everything in herself? Clutching her letter from Reyer close she spoke again hoping someone would hear.
"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? Hello?"
Full Name: Formorian Carlisle
Nickname(s): Mori
Birthday: May 15th
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
Desired Position: Vocal/Choral Instructor
Character Information
Personality:
Shy and timid at first, but head strong and forward when she knows what she wants. Exploration is beyond Formorian but when she arrives in Paris and the mysterious happenings of the Opera Ghost at the Populaire. Everyone's lives change, including the once strict, and dutified Formorian.
From the roof top of the Opera Populaire, to her country house and deep beneath the cold stone of the Opera House. Formorian's curiosity just might wind her in the deepest trouble she'll ever face in her once simple life. What awaits her here? Love? Heartache? Despair? Madness? In this the Phantom's Opera.
History:
Born on English soil, [daughter to the Duke of Carlisle] young Formorian was brought up on a large estate near the grounds of Carlisle Wall. A string of history had unfolded before that soil, Scottish blood, and English blood a like had been shed there. Leaving the young blond with a mix of both Lowlander and English woman within her blood.
A light accent of the Lowlanders, mixed with the quirk of English. Formorian was easily known when she moved down lower to London. Where she took up a great interest in art, and music itself. However wealthy her family had been however, she had to learn her own way around in the ever growing world. With a hand for thread work, and a vast knowledge from her studies in Language, and History. It wasn't long before she turned to the age of sixteen and she was happily sent out to do something she hadn't studied for.
Being a Governess to a wealthy family in the French Territory of Calais. Here her English would turn to a fluent French, and a flip of the tongue she easily mastered Spanish right alongside travelers. Her time spent managing not only the children, and being a gracious and overly young chatelaine. The docks and shores of Calais called to her, as if to bid her to find something other than this territory and English land itself.
A cousin who had long since migrated to French soil in Versailles a few miles from the famed city of Paris. Formorian took up her bags once more, and set on a train ride that carried the smell of sulfur in the air as she boarded, and stepped off the rusty tracks. Her luck was growing as her cousin invited her into his home. Where to Formorian's delight a man by the name of 'Reyer' whom Formorian would come to know was a dear friend. Was visiting upon her arrival.
With a great gusto, and much applause when he sampled her nimble fingers on the ivory keys of a Piano. Also hearing the sweet bell like voice that quite simply reminded him of angels singing the praise of God. Reyer immediately offered a chance of a life time! To become a member of the Opera Populaire and her musical family.
Timidly she took up the offer to become the choral instructor of the Corpse de Ballet, and the lead Chorus members. Perhaps life was opening a larger door to her, she only hoped however that an estranged man and those in his pawn like game did not draw her too far from safety.
Random Info
Likes:
- Singing
- Dancing
- Acting
- Performing
- Arts (Music, Plays, Paintings)
- Animals (Horses, Dogs, Cats, Birds)
- Writing (Poems)
- Flowers
- Sewing, Knitting
- Carriage Rides
- Walking in the Park
- Truth, Honesty, Sincerity in others
- Books
- Playing the Organ, Violin, Piano, and Harp
- Catholicism
- Drawing
- Gifts (Recieving of Course)
Dislikes:
- Hunting
- Abuse of Animals
- Snobbish Nobles
- Lack of Self Assurance/Will
- Bullies
- Gossips
- Blasphemers
- Over use of power
- Cruelty to others
- Selfishness
- Infidelity
- Betrayal
- Lack of morals
Fears:
-Being Hurt {Physically/Emotionally}
-Never Finding TRUE Love
-Never Being Good Enough
-Alone
-Insects
Habits:-Worries her bottom lip when she's nervous
-Day Dream A LOT
-Overly Optomistic
Family
Parents: Both deceased
Sibling(s): None.
Relative(s): 1 Cousin. 1 Uncle.
Other
Custom Title: Vocal/Choral Instructor
The magic word: Inside My Mind
Role Play Sample:
Stepping off the train had proven to be something far more difficult that she could've ever imagined. Seated for so long, and then to finally allow her protesting muscles to stretch. She'd almost felt ancient as she made her way down the isles, being bumped by others, or bumping others to which she apologized a thousand times over. Taking up her smaller suitcases, she walked along the side of the station her glittering pale blue eyes searching for the rest of her items.
The sulfur of the train grew thick, and the steam just made the air itself unbreathable. Composing herself to not choke outright she hailed to one of the men. Who simply grunted at her accented French, and she was left to wait several minutes for her belongings. A large load of eight cases, and three chests belonged to her. Once all had been accounted for catching the eye of awaiting cabby's proved just as difficult.
'How rude!' She thought inwardly as she waved her kerchief and still the carriages sailed by. All it took was for a man to raise his silver studded, cuffed hand and the cabs came to a halt. Annoyed beyond belief now the young woman, lightly adjusted her hat to block the rays of the sun raining down upon her. The golden glow radiating off her platinum blond hair, and giving her fair cheeks a small flush.
Formorian stepped alongside a dashing young man, his clothing easily some upper class man. Perhaps a banker or some other sort of standing. Her dress was simple, for she was a demure sort of girl rather she was twenty-one seemingly wearing clothes preferably used by her mother. Yet if she ever chose to come out of her shell she'd make for a striking beauty. As for the man beside her, she waited for a cabby to trot by and in a moment she bumped his hand up in a half hailing manner. The cab stopped and she beamed in a smile.
"I'm so sorry Monsieur so clumsy of me!" She said sweetly, and with little more she rushed to the cab. Gave her directions, and watched with a careful eye as her things were loaded. Once she was seated safely inside and on her way she relaxed openly in the privacy of the box.
Too soon was she at the grandeur of the Opera Populaire, and he greeting was just as bland as her search for her luggage. Unloaded and standing like some fool before the Populaire, she entered into the foyer. Her accented French ringing out through the obviously empty entrance. But what else could she do? Bring everything in herself? Clutching her letter from Reyer close she spoke again hoping someone would hear.
"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? Hello?"