Taste of Treason
05-21-14, 01:48 PM
There is only one part of a woman's body that truly matters. True, her silky hair can turn heads; her eyes can tell the story of her soul; her fingertips can bring someone to ecstasy; her breast can nurse a child or turn a man into one. All of these things are powerful; but her lips? Everything can change because of her lips.
A gentle kiss can melt the strongest man, a harsh word can change the state of the world, a soft hush can quiet a screaming child. A woman's lips control the world.
Name: Cel- short for Cellar door
Race: Human
Age: 22
Cel was born in Salvar. Her parents were both poets, they truly believe that worlds could save humanity from all the horrors that faced it. They named their daughter Cellar Door more as a tribute to their own obsession with beautiful phrases than with any practical intent. Cel was kept locked tight in her home with only two word-obsessed parents to keep her company. As a result she spoke early, but walked late. She was a frail child, not suited for lifting or hard play, but she was reciting sonnets by three and writing them by five. She never saw the beauty in her parents dedication to the art of literature but she did naturally excel at it. She had an almost morbid obsession with the world outside her window and at seven she began to creep into the night while her parents dreamed of fame and fortune flowing from their pens. She would creep to the neighborhood houses and watched the families. The tan-skinned children would wrestle and fight, only to cuddle together and drift off to peaceful sleep moments later. Their parents seemed frazzled while the children played, but would stand in the doorway and smile down at the mess of covers and arms and legs and the look on their faces showed that nothing was more important than those kids.
Cel watched her own parents carefully over the next several months, hoping with all her being she would see that look upon their faces as they looked at her. When it never came she began to write more and more, hoping she could perhaps write her way into their hearts. They instead simply placed the pages in her book and pointed out areas she could improve. Two years were spent trying to win their affection. It was the night before her tenth birthday and as she lay in bed she smiled as she remembered the girl down the streets birthday night. There where presents piled by the door and a half-eaten cake on the counter. A small girl sat in her mothers lap as they told her about the day she was born. Cel heard bits and pieces of the story but most of all she noticed how the father's eyes never strayed from the young girl, how the mother's hands enveloped her, how the little girl seemed to have everything. Cel had cried herself to sleep that night. Now, she waited. Tomorrow may be the day that everything changes.
And change it did. Cel woke early, wanting to be the first thing her father saw when he went to make his coffee. As the door opened she nearly cried in excitement. He patted her on the head as he passed.
She watched as they went about their normal day, saying nothing about what was the biggest day of her life so far. Her mother lay curled up on the corner of the couch, writing fervently. It was then that Cel first saw the look she had longed for, directed not at her, but the words on the page. Anger curled up in her gut and as she lay in bed that night. She waited until she heard rythmic breathing beyond the wall and made her way to the living area. She burned every single book she could find, years of her parents devotion, all of their love. She burned every bit of it and when she was done she collapsed on the couch and cried. The next morning neither parent spoke to her, dinner was set on the empty table and her parents locked themselves in their room. Two days went by before the men came. Her hands were tied behind her back and she left, to spend the rest of her childhood locked in a cell at the hospital.
Cellar's life since her release has been of little note. After the death of her parents the girl has wondered from place to place, begging or signing up for tournaments to gain a bit of coin.
Appearance:
Cel has pale skin from years of being kept inside. She has bright green eyes and dark black hair. Her clothing is usually over sized and simple. Her hair hangs to her waist and is full of flowing curls. She is a pretty girl, but comes across as a beggar rather than a lady.
A gentle kiss can melt the strongest man, a harsh word can change the state of the world, a soft hush can quiet a screaming child. A woman's lips control the world.
Name: Cel- short for Cellar door
Race: Human
Age: 22
Cel was born in Salvar. Her parents were both poets, they truly believe that worlds could save humanity from all the horrors that faced it. They named their daughter Cellar Door more as a tribute to their own obsession with beautiful phrases than with any practical intent. Cel was kept locked tight in her home with only two word-obsessed parents to keep her company. As a result she spoke early, but walked late. She was a frail child, not suited for lifting or hard play, but she was reciting sonnets by three and writing them by five. She never saw the beauty in her parents dedication to the art of literature but she did naturally excel at it. She had an almost morbid obsession with the world outside her window and at seven she began to creep into the night while her parents dreamed of fame and fortune flowing from their pens. She would creep to the neighborhood houses and watched the families. The tan-skinned children would wrestle and fight, only to cuddle together and drift off to peaceful sleep moments later. Their parents seemed frazzled while the children played, but would stand in the doorway and smile down at the mess of covers and arms and legs and the look on their faces showed that nothing was more important than those kids.
Cel watched her own parents carefully over the next several months, hoping with all her being she would see that look upon their faces as they looked at her. When it never came she began to write more and more, hoping she could perhaps write her way into their hearts. They instead simply placed the pages in her book and pointed out areas she could improve. Two years were spent trying to win their affection. It was the night before her tenth birthday and as she lay in bed she smiled as she remembered the girl down the streets birthday night. There where presents piled by the door and a half-eaten cake on the counter. A small girl sat in her mothers lap as they told her about the day she was born. Cel heard bits and pieces of the story but most of all she noticed how the father's eyes never strayed from the young girl, how the mother's hands enveloped her, how the little girl seemed to have everything. Cel had cried herself to sleep that night. Now, she waited. Tomorrow may be the day that everything changes.
And change it did. Cel woke early, wanting to be the first thing her father saw when he went to make his coffee. As the door opened she nearly cried in excitement. He patted her on the head as he passed.
She watched as they went about their normal day, saying nothing about what was the biggest day of her life so far. Her mother lay curled up on the corner of the couch, writing fervently. It was then that Cel first saw the look she had longed for, directed not at her, but the words on the page. Anger curled up in her gut and as she lay in bed that night. She waited until she heard rythmic breathing beyond the wall and made her way to the living area. She burned every single book she could find, years of her parents devotion, all of their love. She burned every bit of it and when she was done she collapsed on the couch and cried. The next morning neither parent spoke to her, dinner was set on the empty table and her parents locked themselves in their room. Two days went by before the men came. Her hands were tied behind her back and she left, to spend the rest of her childhood locked in a cell at the hospital.
Cellar's life since her release has been of little note. After the death of her parents the girl has wondered from place to place, begging or signing up for tournaments to gain a bit of coin.
Appearance:
Cel has pale skin from years of being kept inside. She has bright green eyes and dark black hair. Her clothing is usually over sized and simple. Her hair hangs to her waist and is full of flowing curls. She is a pretty girl, but comes across as a beggar rather than a lady.