Mimora Ashvale

Physical Description

Her loveliest feature was the color of her irises. A luminous amber with flecks of sunflower yellow. Those upturned eyes were lined by charcoal paint that smeared up to her eyebrow and colored her sockets that gave her an impish appearance. Flaxen bangs were symmetrically parted down the middle to frame high rounded cheekbones. Her hair was worn in a high braided ponytail that fell to the middle of her shoulder blades. Her lips wore a cheeky smile creating dimpled cheeks that completed her a mischievous look.

Despite her short stature and small frame she was relatively strong. The most noticeable detail was the black ink permanently fixated along her body. The archaic lines and rudimentary shapes started in triangles on her neck then followed down symmetrically to end at her knee caps. This did not save the flesh on her arms or her back for they were colored dark by the tattoos. Faint lines of muscle etched it's mark on her lean arms, flat stomach and thick legs. Her muscles were often covered by shabby cloth-work and the occasional piece of leather that had proved it's worth by the amount of scuffles embossed in the worn brown hide. Her outfits were practical but sometimes flamboyantly so with added bells or patches of different material sewn on.

Personality

Mimora was the epitome of facetious, not be taken seriously. She showed an interest to just about anything that seemed humorous or for a good profit. An extroverted nature made this sweet-talker an endearing person. Mimora was almost always in a state of intense elation of euphoric mania. Most days she's erratic, whimsical at best. To strangers she may seem a charming eccentric to others an annoyance. Mimora's faults defined as much of her as her strengths. She could be dishonest, aloof and candid. She was always scheming to come out in top in some way no matter how small the benefit.

Her favorite thing to do was to warp and coil her body in twisted shapes. It was the only time she could simply just focus on her thoughts and muscles to escape the lackluster days. While she enjoyed telling stories and singing songs, she couldn't even hold a pen. She never saw the usefulness of writing when she had a mouth. It was either that or no one simply taught her how. She had a love for certain vices that made life a little less sober. When under the influence she could be seen as off in her own world with a somber expression and glazed eyes. It brought out the worst in the vivid breton.


Background

The beginning of her life was full of hardships, over-coming obstacles, and inevitable failure. Her father, Andore Ashvale, was an addict of gambling and the intoxicating smell of burning skooma. Elayne, Mimora's mother, was a sweet devoted woman whom loved her family despite the overall failure of the father. The babe was the world to the woman whose husband had essentially cursed them to an existence of hunger and homelessness.

He had amassed a large sum of debt with a traveling cirque at one of their rigged card games by gambling away nonexistent possessions. The father made a deal to cut his debt in half by giving away his daughter. It was then the one year old had a drastic transition in lifestyle. From a loving poverty stricken household to one of gypsy tendencies with less than endearing people. In the beginning Mimora threw tantrums and cried relentlessly while adjusting to the sudden change.

As soon as she became five year old she begun her contortionist training. The life of a child inside a circus was one of sweat and tears. The instructor was a working member of the circus, a redguard male named Steyn, who was a very stern teacher who had no room for failure or a defeatist attitude. He started the girl with stretches then pulled and pressed her into shapes for her muscles to remember for the coming years. Mimora choose to simply do as she was told, each day fading into the next without a second thought.

The blonde was friendly and spoke to many people to visited the little cirque to get amusement from their usual dull lives. It was where she learned to play and perform simply with vocals and body language. Around the age of eight where she became well-spoken for someone with little education. It was around this year that she began to exhibit skills in bending and turning herself into a wild degree of shapes with her own breton ligaments.

Mimora's fondest memory was of an eleven year old boy who seemed awe-struck by the blonde Breton. She thought him cute in an vagabond kind of way. She watched him intently during her act of dancing with other cirque members then contortions. It was only later she would realize that the boy was to be very important to her.

Mimora had founded with Numerai a traveling troupe named the Madcapped Mavens two years prior to current events. They traveled city to city to perform in the streets with random songs, sleight of hand tricks, and interesting acts. The duo were erratic going about their way, changing directions halfway to go else where deemed more fantastical.

Approved.