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Background
In the line of children born, there must always be one named after the Knight Commander Xenon Cindravale. The youngest of four siblings was granted this blessing and to the shock of all, the only not to take up the title of Knight. Xenona was a work of harmonious opposites that kept making appearing with each passing year in her youth. Discovering at an early age the girl was awakened, carrying a rather indepth ability, her family still intended her for the blade. This she shirked and shied from, using her marital lessons only in so much as she could learn to move, dodge and dance her way out of the reach of blades or strikes. For every wish they had of her, for every task they put before her, Xenona sought its opposite.
With her continued failings to meet the expectations of her House, there was little for them to do save to send her to the Tower. It was here she found a some form of sanctuary and peace in her studies. As some would say she flourished, like a blossom waking from the last frost. Grasping at the teachings, she devoted herself to that which had some interest and soon became an obsession. Cindravale would become something of a distant memory, visits offered now and again to the family that now could not understand her.
A tinge of eccentricity set in on the youthful girl, hiding the wisdom and years of study by the peculiarities she adopted. Touch of her bare hands was something no longer meant for everyone and she adopted the habit of wearing gloves to buffer the contact. Studying her own abilities and learning took up most of her time and when not exploring her powers, she spent time reconstructing herself in painting.
She has yet to actively wish to return home, the visits are enough for her but with her age and eligibility amongst the sea of churning nobles and matches come to bear, her family has called her home. Home to duty and purpose for them once more. Reluctantly she has left the Tower, uncertain of how a permanent stay will be received or affect her. She had but one request for her return - her rooms be remote enough that she can practice her teachings or likewise an empty space be afforded her to use just for that sole purpose. The latter being the one she impressed upon them most. Her siblings are a mystery to her and she will never admit to her nervousness upon meeting them once again, though the change in succession has definitely roused some curiosity.
Characteristics
Description
Quirks
Always Wears Gloves — Its been years that she has chosen to wear gloves to avoid direct contact with anyone. Never once has she been seen removing them, though they do change from day to day at times.
Sleepwalker — She stirs from sleep but often does not go far. An occasional sleepwalker and more prone to do so in a unfamiliar setting.
White Tower-centric — Her life has been spent within the White Tower, it is no wonder she is rather eccentric and favors her awakened abilities.
Intuitively Creative — Xenona expresses herself through different means, mostly in a creative way. By verse, by painting, my playing the flute.
Third Eye — Xenona often sees things, even if they are not there and she can be rather apparent about it. Stopping conversation, searching for something, speaking in riddles.
Musical Inspiration
- Imogen Heap - "Little Bird" ♫
Little bird, little bird, little bird, what can we do?
A think tank think rescue, Simon says etch a sketch
Send a golden message only he would get
Quickly now 'cause this is not how it ends
Little bird, little bird, little bird
Well, I've got one more question
And I swear I'll let it rest
Well, I've just one more question
And I swear I'll let it rest
- Jesca Hoop - "Tulip" ♫
Here is your heart
That I withdraw
Spilling the flowers and bright from his paw
The broken petals climbing the walls
Stealing my oxygen, no air at all
From the bed I hear him call
But I answer cooing when the night falls
The cutting sword is storming the halls
Cutting my vision to no sight at all
- Starfield - "Natural Disaster" ♫
I cannot be broken
I cannot be tamed
my tongue is a fire and my words are a flame
I will burn and wither
I will stop for none
my will is a drought and my ego the sun
- Memoryhouse - "Bonfire" ♫
Out in the pale grey moth light sky
I see my breath like ghosts to fragile to take flight
I held the photo to the light
And traced the symmetry as fingerprints divide
Divide
- Sarah McLachlin - "Blackbird" ♫
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arrive
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
- Florence and the Machine - "Breath of Life" ♫
Whose side am I on? Whose side am I
Whose side am I on? Whose side am I
And the fever begins to spread
From my heart down to my legs
But the room is so quiet, oh oh oh oh
And although I was losing my mind
It was a chorus so sublime
But the room is too quiet, oh oh oh oh (I believe it)
I was looking for a breath of life
A little touch of heavenly light
But all the choirs in my head sang no oh oh oh (I believe it)
On the Grid
Known Associates
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Lord Sir Ariston Cindravale : My eldest brother. Tradition is tradition. We will just have to break it together. |
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Young Lord Sir Solon Cindravale : Elder brother. So much has happened in my absence. Quite the extensive title you now hold. |
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Lord Mykal Cindravale : Elder brother. You have become…interesting. We should speak. |
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Lady Sir Mirana Cindravale : Older sister. At least one of us was able to make our family happy. |
Recent Logs
(drake eirene ella event garus glitch jane letha logs matt roxy sean soleil solon xenona zaniyah)
Recent Memoirs
Gallery
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