Christabel Rose Hartlyn

[lili]

*The Basics
Full Name: Princess Christabel Rose Hartlyn
NickNames: Christy (mostly by her mother; she doesn’t like this one much), Christa, Bell
Age: 16
Alliance: Lamora

*How It Works
Personality

Christabel, being royalty, has been given all she could ever want all her life. As a child, Christabel was rather spoiled, and was sometimes described as being a bit of a brat. However, she has been able to grow out of her childish, spoiled disposition as she has grown older, and it has now been replaced with a sort of cool self-assurance. She is very graceful and well-mannered on the outside and in public, but it is just another appearance that must be kept up when you are a princess. Underneath it all, Christabel is very free-spirited. She doesn’t care much for rules, and often goes out of her way to break them. She is headstrong and independent, and has a fiery temper and can be very brash when angered. There is some concern over whether or not Christabel will be level-headed enough to rule the country on her own one day, but she doesn’t really let this bother her. She believes in herself and her own abilities and does not care much for what others think.

To truly understand the princess, the fact that Christabel has been born into a life of royalty must be taken into account. She never chose to be princess; given the choice, she probably would never have chosen this life for herself. She does not want to “sit still and look pretty,” as she is often expected to do. She wants to be free to choose for herself and herself alone, but as a princess being groomed to take over a kingdom, she must learn to always make her decisions for her country as well. That responsibility always seems to feel as if it is constantly weighing her down.

Christabel is often taken to be a brat, even today. Really, she is constantly conflicted with duty to her country and what she feels like she should say and think while her heart seems to be screaming something else. She feels like she must conform to the standards set out for her as princess and ignore her own feelings. To the dismay of her mother, Christabel has never been good at simply shoving her emotions aside. In short, Christabel feels confused and misunderstood. Though she is constantly surrounded by ladies-in-waiting and servants and maids, never has she felt comfortable enough to confide in a single one of them. She has no friends, really – she feels utterly alone in the world.

10 likes
The rain
Archery
Horses
Grass
The sea
Star-gazing
The moon
Her country and her people
Any kind of music
Singing
Playing the harp

10 dislikes
Embroidery and needlework
Sitting still
Her mother (sometimes)
Staying in the palace/her bed chamber for very long
Being forced into anything
Being princess (most of the time)
Feeling like she’s being watched
Constantly wearing long dresses
Dark colors
Mar’vol in general
Rules
The idea of marriage
Ignorance



Appearance

Christabel has a pale face framed by thick, honey colored curls that fall past her shoulders. She has a straight nose with a slight upward tilt and large, clear eyes that change from blue to green. Christabel has high cheek bones and very full lips. She is a little tall for her age, but not so tall that her figure has become gangly or awkward. She is a little on the thin side, but she has her fair share of curves for a girl of only sixteen.

Christabel generally dresses in light colors; rarely will she be seen in dark clothing. She is usually wearing long, flowing, beautiful dresses typical of a woman of her status, though she’d rather be wearing trousers. In fact, she often does find ways to sneak away from the palace and wander around, disguised as a man, much to her mother’s dismay.

The Back Story
Parents: The Queen of Lamora (has no first name... yet XD)
History

Princess Christabel Rose Hartlyn was born on March 20, the first day of spring, to the king and queen of Lamora. The whole kingdom celebrated the birth of their future queen with parades and parties and the like. All through her early life, Christabel was doted on by her parents. When she was no older than ten months, however, her father died tragically. Christabel has no memory of her father, but his death seems to weigh on her constantly. She has been told that she should not be so affected by the death of a man she never had a chance to know, but it is this that seems to make it all the worse for her.

Christabel has always excelled in her studies, even as a small girl. She is very well educated, as she has every option available to her – or so it would seem. She enjoys reading and seems to absorb knowledge like a sponge. She often uses her studies as a sort of escape from the real world – a way to get away from her duties and responsibilities, even if only for an hour or two. She has been taught to sew and embroider, of course, but she has never cared much nor had much skill in that area.


Pets
A white mare named Annabelle
A falcon named Tybalt

The Master Mind
ooc name Just call me Lili or Lily
Sample RP

War cries echoed in Christabel’s ears like resounding thunder. The cries of men wrenched at her heart. She was not supposed to be out here; she was not wanted. She was a woman, and women did not belong at war – or so she had been told. She had come down here anyway, of course. She would not have stopped for the world. If she was to be queen, why should she not see this? Why should she not know?

Christabel sat completely still on her white mare, seemingly entranced by the pandemonium before her. All hell was breaking loose – arrows were being shot, swords were drawn. Suddenly, the atmosphere had changed from a sort of tense anticipation to a desperate struggle to kill – no, not to live, but to kill. Even from this distance, Christabel could feel the soldiers’ rage; their reason for fighting. It was like a fire that burned somewhere deep in their souls and would never go out until it had burned everything down to ash. She could see that fire in their eyes. It was this fire – this rage – that drove them to kill their fellow men.

So this is what they do not want me to see, Christabel thought, this is what they would protect me from. She stared out at the massacre, watching in silence the death of men who had sworn they would die for her – the future queen – and for Lamora. There were hordes of them piling up now, all of them dead. The earth itself seemed to be bleeding red; breaking open. It was impossible for Christabel to tell which side had the advantage from such a distance – every voice, every sound, whether made in exultance or anguish, seemed to come together into one drawn-out cry until she thought she might go mad from it. It was horrible and strangely, gruesomely beautiful all at once. She wanted to look away; she was suddenly unsure of her decision to come here, but she found it impossible to shield her eyes from the sight of the raw fury of the raging battle.