Post by dansle7eme on Aug 13, 2008 22:28:31 GMT -5
Name: Charlotte du Liancourt
Nickname:Charlotte
Age:28
Country: British but transfer to France
Position:
Job: Art History/ Museum work
Eye Color: Ice cold blue
Hair Color:Red Hair
Height: 5'8"
General Appearance: Charlotte has always been a rather thin girl, and is on the verge of being TOO thin for heir tall height. Her wrists are thin, but she considers them to be elegant and graceful which ends with long hands with rough skin thanks to many years of field work. Many have described her fiery red hair (one may even call it a mane) to be of Botticelli style that cascade below her shoulder blades. Her face is rather interesting, she is not drop dead gorgeous but has a "special something"... perhaps it is her high cheek bones and charming lips, but result in a slight crooked smile. It is her slightly slanted eyes that make her face memorable, they are of an ice cold blue that can almost pierce any soul, almost too intense for her usually calm demeanor. One thing that cannot go unnoticed with Charlotte is her posture when she stands and walks, it is so graceful that one has to look twice if she is floating.
Likes:
Art History, Art, Books, Equestrianism for one's pleasure, nature as well as cities, animals especially dogs, loves to be free
Dislikes: Dishonesty, music (especially the piano forte, it's a painful subject due to the close relationship with her father), she fears being trapped in a close environment, impoliteness
Personality: She is very independent-minded who has always been serious since a child. Charlotte has had one of the best educations that parents could ever offer, but no doubt it was turbulent especially in an all girl school, which helped mold her character. She is hardly afraid of anything and has always been a loner in almost all aspects of her life. She is a quiet person who doesn't talk much but will listen to every word you say. Although she is a good listener, when introduced to a stranger, she is rather wary of them because she is shy. Her true colors come out when she is outside such as calmness, sincerity, etc. and she is truly at peace with herself. Her true colors also come out when she is doing something that she's good at, and that is museum work and art history, where passion sometimes gets so intense that she is transported to a different world.
Something Unique About Your Character: Charlotte has a photographic memory and is an extremely fast learner
Family: Though her mother was in charge of her intense education, Charlotte never got along well with her mother. It was her father whom she respected and loved. He was an exceptional pianist, who tried to instruct Charlotte in his craft during her busy schedule. It was also he who introduced her to art, taking her to a different museum in Europe every weekend until an accident killed both of her parents. It was in that moment that she gave up music, vowing never to return due to the painful memories it evoked. Charlotte has no fellow siblings
Background: Charlotte was born in near Oxford and always had access to the major library of the world at Oxford Uni where her mother was a well respected scholar in mathematics while her father a music scholar. She was born in 1980 and like stated before she had the best education any set of parents could offer her. Charlotte hardly had any friends and has always been independent. She was put through the best all girl schools in England then in the lovely Swiss alps (where she fell in love with nature), but was always alone, never loved by anyone save her father. It is when she turned 19, her parents' lives are snuffed like a candle by a gust of wind which left her numb. Charlotte pushed herself to almost the end of her wits with her studies to forget the memories of her father and well, her mother too. Graduating with honors from Oxford and first in class, she receives a very respectable position in the National Gallery in London where she becomes a young star. It is on a fateful trip to the Louvre and a quick stop to Palais Garnier that will change her life, thanks to a small yellowing letter that comes into her hands.
Anything else: She has yet to find someone, a friend to run with her at the same speed
Signature Claim: any smart young historian
Sample Post Charlotte du Liancourt, a young woman of twenty-eight summers and respected connoisseur of art history and archaeology, makes her way to the Curatorial Department of Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities of the Musee du Louvre. Flashing her identification to the guard who eyes her, he allows her to enter the closed off area where men and women handle priceless treasures of the Mediterranean. She inspects the careful work that is being conducted with a wary eye, making sure everyone is using the utmost care with these jewels of the Glorious Roman Empire. "Please handle that with extreme care with that one over there, that is a human being" she nods to five people lifting a delicate calcified human from the tragedy of Pompeii. She holds her breath until they settle him down carefully in his designated area.
"Ah, Madame Beauchamp," The Curator walks to her, "Please sign these documents, and you will on your way back to London in no time. This exhibition will be, as you Brits call it, 'a smashing hit' n'est pas?"
"Merci, Monsieur, it has been an exquisite pleasure in working once more with your wondrous museum." Charlotte smiles graciously as she signs all the forms under CCB, "It has been taken very far under your watchful eye."
"The pleasure is all mine" The Curator's eyes take in her features, fiery wavy red hair with beautiful green eyes, resembling a freshly painted Botticelli's portrait of a young woman. Charlotte smiles at him elegantly, "Here are my signatures, as well as guidelines for temperatures and humidity for the Pompeian Man. Now that all is taken care of, what do you recommend that is near Gare du Nord and the Louvre?"
"Ah, Madame, you must see our Palais Garnier, it is perfect for one who is interested in how art and music are intertwined."
"Art is the language of the Gods, Monsieur, but I will go, to humour myself. Thank you for everything, I will return within a few weeks time."
She walks away, from some of her most prized treasures though relieved and pleased with the final outcome of this long planned exhibition. She makes her way to the surface, delighted to find her driver waiting for her at the foot of the curb.
"To the Opera, Remy"
"Yes, m'am" He waits for her to close the door and makes his way through the busy streets of Paris to Opera Garnier.
"I will only be a few minutes, Remy, in the meantime, please pick up my bag at the hotel?"
"As you wish, m'am" Charlotte exits the car and makes her way through the bustling tourists and passes through security. She looks up at the statues, taken rather aback at the simple yet passionate expressions of the composers. She walks up a pair of side stairs after showing her identification to the hosts. She wanders around, admiring the angels, holding their candelabras with pride as they praise the gods in the heavens as well as the smooth layers of marble. Truly a masterpiece...
She stops for a moment to tie back her hair into a neat bun, then continues her adventure through this newfound territory, a French jewel. She notices to the left a small room with costumes, and display boxes. She walks towards it, and finds a security guard wandering about, also admiring the costumes. Charlotte looks towards the boxes where letters are display from closing the opera during the Second World War. As she is just about to walk a way, there is a piece of yellowish paper lying on the floor and picks it up and reads the childish brownish lettering.
'Dear Mr. Manager:
Thanks. Charming Evening. Daae exquisite. Choruses need waking up. Carlotta a splendid commonplace instrument. Will write you soon for the 240,000 francs, or 233,424 fr. 70c., to be correct. MM. Debienne and Poligny have sent me the 6,575 fr. 30 c. representing the first ten days of my allowance for the current year; their privileges finished on the evening of the tenth inst.
Kind regards,
O.G.'
That was the last thing she read, the letter disappeared in her hand, making her disappear as well, before she could make any noise. She gasps, it feels like she was pulled through a thin tube a quarter of her size. "What happened?" She says out loud in her native language, British English. She sees her breath become into water vapor as she shivers.
Nickname:Charlotte
Age:28
Country: British but transfer to France
Position:
Job: Art History/ Museum work
Eye Color: Ice cold blue
Hair Color:Red Hair
Height: 5'8"
General Appearance: Charlotte has always been a rather thin girl, and is on the verge of being TOO thin for heir tall height. Her wrists are thin, but she considers them to be elegant and graceful which ends with long hands with rough skin thanks to many years of field work. Many have described her fiery red hair (one may even call it a mane) to be of Botticelli style that cascade below her shoulder blades. Her face is rather interesting, she is not drop dead gorgeous but has a "special something"... perhaps it is her high cheek bones and charming lips, but result in a slight crooked smile. It is her slightly slanted eyes that make her face memorable, they are of an ice cold blue that can almost pierce any soul, almost too intense for her usually calm demeanor. One thing that cannot go unnoticed with Charlotte is her posture when she stands and walks, it is so graceful that one has to look twice if she is floating.
Likes:
Art History, Art, Books, Equestrianism for one's pleasure, nature as well as cities, animals especially dogs, loves to be free
Dislikes: Dishonesty, music (especially the piano forte, it's a painful subject due to the close relationship with her father), she fears being trapped in a close environment, impoliteness
Personality: She is very independent-minded who has always been serious since a child. Charlotte has had one of the best educations that parents could ever offer, but no doubt it was turbulent especially in an all girl school, which helped mold her character. She is hardly afraid of anything and has always been a loner in almost all aspects of her life. She is a quiet person who doesn't talk much but will listen to every word you say. Although she is a good listener, when introduced to a stranger, she is rather wary of them because she is shy. Her true colors come out when she is outside such as calmness, sincerity, etc. and she is truly at peace with herself. Her true colors also come out when she is doing something that she's good at, and that is museum work and art history, where passion sometimes gets so intense that she is transported to a different world.
Something Unique About Your Character: Charlotte has a photographic memory and is an extremely fast learner
Family: Though her mother was in charge of her intense education, Charlotte never got along well with her mother. It was her father whom she respected and loved. He was an exceptional pianist, who tried to instruct Charlotte in his craft during her busy schedule. It was also he who introduced her to art, taking her to a different museum in Europe every weekend until an accident killed both of her parents. It was in that moment that she gave up music, vowing never to return due to the painful memories it evoked. Charlotte has no fellow siblings
Background: Charlotte was born in near Oxford and always had access to the major library of the world at Oxford Uni where her mother was a well respected scholar in mathematics while her father a music scholar. She was born in 1980 and like stated before she had the best education any set of parents could offer her. Charlotte hardly had any friends and has always been independent. She was put through the best all girl schools in England then in the lovely Swiss alps (where she fell in love with nature), but was always alone, never loved by anyone save her father. It is when she turned 19, her parents' lives are snuffed like a candle by a gust of wind which left her numb. Charlotte pushed herself to almost the end of her wits with her studies to forget the memories of her father and well, her mother too. Graduating with honors from Oxford and first in class, she receives a very respectable position in the National Gallery in London where she becomes a young star. It is on a fateful trip to the Louvre and a quick stop to Palais Garnier that will change her life, thanks to a small yellowing letter that comes into her hands.
Anything else: She has yet to find someone, a friend to run with her at the same speed
Signature Claim: any smart young historian
Sample Post Charlotte du Liancourt, a young woman of twenty-eight summers and respected connoisseur of art history and archaeology, makes her way to the Curatorial Department of Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities of the Musee du Louvre. Flashing her identification to the guard who eyes her, he allows her to enter the closed off area where men and women handle priceless treasures of the Mediterranean. She inspects the careful work that is being conducted with a wary eye, making sure everyone is using the utmost care with these jewels of the Glorious Roman Empire. "Please handle that with extreme care with that one over there, that is a human being" she nods to five people lifting a delicate calcified human from the tragedy of Pompeii. She holds her breath until they settle him down carefully in his designated area.
"Ah, Madame Beauchamp," The Curator walks to her, "Please sign these documents, and you will on your way back to London in no time. This exhibition will be, as you Brits call it, 'a smashing hit' n'est pas?"
"Merci, Monsieur, it has been an exquisite pleasure in working once more with your wondrous museum." Charlotte smiles graciously as she signs all the forms under CCB, "It has been taken very far under your watchful eye."
"The pleasure is all mine" The Curator's eyes take in her features, fiery wavy red hair with beautiful green eyes, resembling a freshly painted Botticelli's portrait of a young woman. Charlotte smiles at him elegantly, "Here are my signatures, as well as guidelines for temperatures and humidity for the Pompeian Man. Now that all is taken care of, what do you recommend that is near Gare du Nord and the Louvre?"
"Ah, Madame, you must see our Palais Garnier, it is perfect for one who is interested in how art and music are intertwined."
"Art is the language of the Gods, Monsieur, but I will go, to humour myself. Thank you for everything, I will return within a few weeks time."
She walks away, from some of her most prized treasures though relieved and pleased with the final outcome of this long planned exhibition. She makes her way to the surface, delighted to find her driver waiting for her at the foot of the curb.
"To the Opera, Remy"
"Yes, m'am" He waits for her to close the door and makes his way through the busy streets of Paris to Opera Garnier.
"I will only be a few minutes, Remy, in the meantime, please pick up my bag at the hotel?"
"As you wish, m'am" Charlotte exits the car and makes her way through the bustling tourists and passes through security. She looks up at the statues, taken rather aback at the simple yet passionate expressions of the composers. She walks up a pair of side stairs after showing her identification to the hosts. She wanders around, admiring the angels, holding their candelabras with pride as they praise the gods in the heavens as well as the smooth layers of marble. Truly a masterpiece...
She stops for a moment to tie back her hair into a neat bun, then continues her adventure through this newfound territory, a French jewel. She notices to the left a small room with costumes, and display boxes. She walks towards it, and finds a security guard wandering about, also admiring the costumes. Charlotte looks towards the boxes where letters are display from closing the opera during the Second World War. As she is just about to walk a way, there is a piece of yellowish paper lying on the floor and picks it up and reads the childish brownish lettering.
'Dear Mr. Manager:
Thanks. Charming Evening. Daae exquisite. Choruses need waking up. Carlotta a splendid commonplace instrument. Will write you soon for the 240,000 francs, or 233,424 fr. 70c., to be correct. MM. Debienne and Poligny have sent me the 6,575 fr. 30 c. representing the first ten days of my allowance for the current year; their privileges finished on the evening of the tenth inst.
Kind regards,
O.G.'
That was the last thing she read, the letter disappeared in her hand, making her disappear as well, before she could make any noise. She gasps, it feels like she was pulled through a thin tube a quarter of her size. "What happened?" She says out loud in her native language, British English. She sees her breath become into water vapor as she shivers.