AVALON SINCLAIR

about your character

[/b] Avalon Beatrice Sinclair
gender: female
age: 20
canon or original: Original[/SIZE][/ul]

the description

[/b] Lily Cole
description of appearance: With hair of spun copper, Avalon resembles in some way the element she feels sparkling just beneath her skin. Her hair can some days be wild and curly, an unruly explosion that shimmers of gold in the sun and then dark blood orange in the shade of the Wall Market’s stands and marquees. On other days, when Avalon takes her time to tame the flame like wildness of her hair it will lay long and smooth around her shoulders or pulled back in a braided coronet. When her hair is pulled back the angelic bone structure of her face glows. Her fierce green eyes change color with the many lights and shadows of the day and the slow swings of her emotions. When her eyes sparkle and glint like sharp emeralds it is best to stay away. When her eyes are a dark forest green that can make you think of elves and their sacred forests you may approach and cordial, but you may silently wonder about what she’s thinking of behind those lovely eyes. Her skin is creamy pale like porcelain, but warms in the light and is soft to the touch like rose petals on a marble statue. Avalon is of average height with long legs that are often hidden under long skirts that flounce and dance around her steps. She is thin and delicate, but curved in all the right places and not bony even though her sister often chides her for being so. Her fingers are nimble and her palm is smooth like the scolloped interior of a shell. With a snap of her fingers she can summon wispy orange flames to dance in that palm, so her hands have a few burn scars from the times when the fire became angry and bit her cruelly in retaliation for being ignored for too long. Avalon wears an eclectic style of clothes, the mixed and matched styles from across the many realms of Magnum Terra that can be found in the Wall Marketplace. Even though she lives in a canvas full of color and vitality she stands out in the corner of the frame in the light of an autumn dawn as a unique work of art.[/SIZE][/ul]

the personality

[/b] Growing up at the epicenter of a lively trade town gives you a full and varied view of life as well as a taste for many new and exciting things. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted a warm ripe orange at the stand of a spice merchant under a thick carpet marquee on a hot summer’s day. The quiet experiencing of the little details of life are what keep Avalon alive and happy. With an oppressive father and cruel step-sister Avalon feels smothered even when she manages to find some time for herself to be alone. The barbs of every derisive quip from Claudia stick in her skin and drag Avalon down into the ground whenever she is just starting to feel a little more free. To top off the rising mountain of emotional endurances Avalon has to face every day, her father enjoys grand speeches brimming with accusations and hatred that fill Avalon with guilt for not being the daughter he wanted. Being born a witch into a family that hated the strange folk that they were forced to serve would be the worst thing in the world for anyone, let alone a young girl growing up without a caring person to hold her and comfort her in her times of need. Avalon often wishes she could have known her real mother who must have been a witch in secret to have been able to marry her father and not be subjected to the same mental torture Avalon was made to endure. The element of fire chose Avalon, she still doesn’t understand how the fire found its way into her, but it was even more confusing to her to think that the fire was already there. A deep fierce flame that is so strong it can become a real glistening orange light curling from her fingertips that can consume and destroy or warm and protect. Avalon can feel the flame inside her, it’s warmth comforts her and makes her feel safe at the worst of times. She is a survivor and a hopeful dreamer. A friendly, loving, compassionate girl secretly waiting to be saved from the cold iron bars of the cage her family put her in to protect themselves from her wrath should it ever arise to retaliate against their own ignorance and wickedness.[/SIZE][/ul]

the history

[/b] Anduin Sinclair {55}, Claire Sinclair {Deceased}
spouse/children: None
siblings: Claudia Sinclair {24}

history so far: One beautiful May evening, with the stars shining bright and a birthing moon in the heavens, the witch Claire Sinclair was giving birth to her second child, to another beloved daughter. But, as she had predicted in casting the cards before she undertook the laborious task of bringing her child into the world, there were irreversible complications which would take her life. Claire lived long enough to hold and name her child before she passed on into the underworld in the early morning before dawn. Claire was still chanting a lullaby for her baby so the little girl would have some memory of her mother’s voice. Anduin Sinclair was distraught and angry when Claire died and to his own shame he placed the blame of his wife’s death on the child and a seed of hate fell into the bosom of his heart. Avalon was cared for by her father to the best of his abilities until he couldn’t bare the frustration of raising a child without a mother. Anduin married again, this time to a proper woman without a single quirk or strange turn of her eyes. The woman was the complete opposite of Anduin’s first wife, who was a wild and beautiful creature that would happily spend her days mixing potions for her children and inscribing protective spells over the doorways in languages her husband could not and would never understand. For all his second wife’s normal and natural behavior she died of a sweat when the girls had reach an age where they could take care of themselves. Avalon’s older sister Claudia was dominant and obstinate, throwing tantrums at her father when she didn’t get what she wanted and she would then punish Avalon with bullying if Anduin still didn’t give her the praise and attention she desired. Avalon can still remember the way Claudia used to pull on the tight curls of her hair and stomp on her toes when Anduin wasn’t looking. Avalon never complained, but whenever Anduin saw her crying silently in pain he could find nothing inside him to say that would comfort her.

While her life at home was not beautiful, the place in which she lived was indeed the most beautiful place in their known world. In the rooms above there rented shop in the Wall Market, Avalon would sit at the grimy windows and stare through the fog of dust at the streets below that always moved with a river of people. When she was left to tend the shop while Anduin was away, Avalon was mesmerized by every new person she met and how each one was unique and special. When Avalon was old enough to wander on her own without her sister’s accompaniment she would be away from the shop when ever she could get the chance. Exploring Wall was her favorite pastime. Soon enough the Martetplace itself was like her second home, she knew all of its little nooks where you could sit with a cup of spiced tea and silently watch the crowds and sales without being disturbed by a single push or shove. Avalon made many friends with the shopkeepers she visited regularly for her father or for herself over the years. They never knew that at home was when she was most unhappy, they never saw the downcast set of her eyes when they finally sent her back home with some goods and a word of farewell. When she was seven Avalon discovered her powers. In this world there are many kinds of witch and warlock, even some without a gift at all that can still help or hinder others. Avalon’s powers came to the surface in the form of fire and sparks. Her first experience had been when Claudia was in a foul mood and still unable to release her frustrations with the world fully. After hitting Avalon across the face she was surprised to suddenly find the hem of her dress on fire. Avalon was just as frightened in that moment of peaked emotions, for her hand was still aflame and she had never been burnt before. Avalon didn’t see the fire she could conjure again until after the bandages on her hand had been removed.

In the middle of the night, with the Wall Marketplace still full of shimmering lights and enough activity to keep her safe, Avalon would sneak away. She found one of her secret places to hide away from the world and looked at the scars on her hand, remembering the pain and wonder she experienced seeing fire embers flickering there like dark rubies. She lifted her fingers slowly, desiring the flames to rise again, and from a dark mark at the center of her hand a little blue light blossomed into being. Avalon blew gently on the light. It flashed a brilliant white and then grew into a slowly dancing orange flame. From that moment on Avalon had a secret that kept Claudia from abusing her as she had always done before. Now her sister’s rage came out in the form of insults which Avalon could smile and bare even if they still hurt just as much as before. To say anything to her father about Claudia’s behavior would have been to poke a sleeping bear in the winter. Nothing would happen and if anything did happen it would be loud and violent. So Avalon lives her life with a beautiful secret. She is a witch. She can make fire come and go at her touch. Now when ever she slips away to be alone, Avalon makes an attempt to seek out the healers’ shops and spell sellers, hoping to find a fellow witch or warlock willing and kind enough to teach her more about her art. The years have rolled by with some improvement, but not as much as there could be. Now Avalon has learned to call her flames and how to make it burn even when her pale fingers are crusted with ice. She still doesn't know the full extent of her powers, but the flames and their dangers no longer frighten her.

At home she cannot practice her self learned skills. Anduin always voiced his hatred for magic and what it did to the world. Avalon still fears the day when he might fully acknowledge the fact that his daughter is one of a great and ever growing brethren. His rage is what keeps Avalon at arms length but still holds her in his power. Perhaps one day she could make use of the gift her mother gave her to leave behind her father and sister and their hate. She could become one of the fire dancers she is now enchanted by when ever they put on a performance in the square. It’s still a mystery to her whether or not the men and women of the performing caravans had the same gifts as herself or are in fact simply human with great and wonderful skills. For all her dreams and secret plans for a better life, Avalon loves her family and living in the Wall Marketplace. She is not so cruel as Claudia to leave her family behind when they need her. Their father is getting older and the shop still needs to be run. Avalon is the better trader and they need her skills to survive. So without a word, in the silence of a woman caged by her own love, she stands a lonely sentinel at a shop window at the center of the great Marketplace of Wall baring every bruise and criticism from her life in the stillness and serenity of her sadness…[/SIZE][/ul]