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 Denim: Alya Ranawyn

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Alina
Incindiary of the Ave Atque Vale
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Posts : 113
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Join date : 2013-01-23
Age : 24

PostSubject: Denim: Alya Ranawyn   Tue Mar 10, 2015 7:31 pm


Updated: 3/10/15



~Alya "Denim" Ranawyn~

"I'm my own woman--first, last, and always."
"Nothing serious... Just feeling a little mortal these days."



~Basic~


True Name: Alya Ranawyn
Known Name (Goes By): Denim
Gender: Effeminate
Age: Unspecified, though young among the Draugrim (likely around 60 to 70 years)
Species: Of the Vanya Draugrim (© WinterCrow; Closed)
>>Scent: pine and forest-like aroma
>>Vocallics: --

Linguistics: Speaks both English and the tongue of the Draugrim fluidly
Humanoid Form: --
Representative Spirit Animal: --
Paraphernalia: an eclectic assortment of feathering worn in her mane and behind her ears
Characterizing Traits: a white handprint painted upon both of her shoulders at near all times, sharply tapered ears, striking blue eyes, and elaborate fur-painting depending on occasion

Favorite Treats: Prefers a diet of plant life when given the option
Favorite Things: --

Main Theme: "Hit Me Like a Man" by The Pretty Reckless
Sub-Themes: "Hide" by Red, "The Sealed Kingdom" by Adrian Von Ziegler

Usual Friendly Companions: --
Usual Disliked Presences: Near any stranger
Kin: None (verified living); attempting to track her mother
Devotions: Pines over no brute; Keeps affectionate affairs reserved
Young: None



~Long-Past Historical Happenings~


"The waves gently lapped against the wooden sides of the log-turned-vessel as the company of canines drifted away from the golden forest. The smallest, only a young pup in the cycles of her kind, gazed back upon the trees of her home with a forlorn look in her eyes. The beautiful maiden, whose general resemblance she bore most clearly, nestled her dark mane between her ears and told her, 'Everything will be alright, Alya. Remember where you came from, and the stars shall always guide you back.'

Alya’s eyes drooped with exhaustion, though she didn’t want to give up her homeland quite yet. All her life, she’d never ventured out of the trees enclosing Lothrien. She had always roamed under their watch with the others of her exceptionally civilized kin. It was there that she was born, where she had grown, but alas, the borders were threatened by the Underhill on one side and the war-ravaged dark woods on the other. It followed in logic succession then, that by her father’s decree, her immediate family had set out to flee from the danger.
Eventually she let her eyes close to the world, and the forest was lost from her grip. By the time she awoke, she was in a far different place than her home forest."



~Biographical Notations~


Alya Ranawyn by blood, Denim by choice, she is of descent of both the Dolen Draugrim and the Eldar Draugrim of the Lothrien. Specifically, for those whom it may concern, her mother was of the Mori variety, and her father served as an ambassador of sorts between the golden boughs of Lothrien and the war-ravaged battlefields to the east of her homeland that her mother had once roamed.

Despite Alya's conception, her mother retained her wild and fierce spirit and was assumed to be slain while she was still young after having turned back on their voyage to safer lands to defend her own. Her father, the ever-peaceful sort, had pushed for them to uproot themselves and make for the white shores, safe from the woes of Eridor where Lothrien lay in residence. Yet her mother could not escape her tempered nature and abandon the fight she partook so heavily in, vanishing from the traveling party under the guidance of the stars and a lack of watching eyes. They had barely made it several days away from their home forest when she had faded into the night without a means of trace or reminder.

The following journey for Alya and her patriarch, after they had also in turn branched off from the others of their company, was a long and arduous one only impeded by her father’s apparent loss of mind as he faded with grief from the separation from her mother. In time during their travel, the same grief would also be held accountable for the taking of his own life as well in a fashion not unheard of among the Draugrim, leaving the young maiden on her own in the land of mortals.

Her father, however, had not passed to Mandos without leaving her enough to survive. She had learned enough to fend for herself in terms of both fighting and reconnaissance along their journey, seemingly possessing an innate knack for the skill that must have been passed on from her mother, and though not considered old among her kind in the least, her mind’s mental workings had still developed at the commonly remarkable speed of the Draugrim, leaving her to quite often be mistaken for one of older stature among the other mortal races.

It wasn't but a fair while until she had chanced upon the forests of Brie. Having never met the different races of Middle-Earth, she was taken aback to find that the mortal canines of the woodland granted her wary looks and their children prodded jest at her ears. There she learned the dividing difference of her kind and the mortal beings, and she resorted to keeping herself as detached as one might. Her ears eventually became covered her growing mane and the massing of feathers worn in it when amongst the wolves of other sorts, and she learned to avoid her birth language if she wanted to avoid attention as well as confusion, instead strengthening her mastery of what appeared to be the accepted tongues. Here as well she found that many of the wolves were less ready to accept her abilities on accounting of her femininity, and she developed a general distaste for their company, choosing to restrict herself to mostly foraging for her food and only wandering the packs' gathering places upon occasion for things such as information or perhaps shelter in the harsher of climates.

Dwelling among the others, she’d long since lost the use of her blood-name, rather known instead as Denim, a name she’d taken up in a personal concoction of their language's phonetics. However, she’d certainly not lost her memories of her once-home, a place where others of her kind were the sole wanderers of the wood; she quickly yearned to seek it out despite her then faded knowledge of the path from the place within which she then found herself lost and to the place of her birth.

She finally took to traveling amongst smaller groups from time to time, despite her reclusive and guarded outlook upon strangers, in order to find her way. Tracing rumors and snippets of words, she was able to navigate her way with the small parties she’d become acquainted with, offering her use of her skills in turn for direction and stay.
It was a fair while though not too long, before she’d come at last upon her home. Here, she had reunited with others of her sort though the strange detachment from the world persisted yet, having been from them and grown without their customs for so long and aided only by her solitary and quite often distasteful nature. It was that which caused her to even more so take up the wanderings that dominate her life now. She travels, quite often alone, between the various worlds she’s come to know, and sometimes new ones all together. Her only purpose of current is to find her mother, whom she’d been informed of as rumored among the living during her stays in Lothrien. Only driven in her search for the one person of kin she has left, she continues to look for the one who can explain everything that she has forgotten and bridge the gap she feels between her and the world, otherwise left to her wandering and coolly guarded ways.

It is on this venture that she has found herself stumbling across the path of the Eveiller. Following a trail within the dark woods, she instead was lead astray into the realms of Arda. The undying lands seemed so familiar at first glance that by the time the haze had cleared and she was able to discern herself as in an unfamiliar place, the path to return from the world had become unclear even to her practiced tracking senses. She now inhabits Arda as a loner of sorts, torn between searching for her kin among it's reaches or searching for her own way out.



~Species Information~

*already in Existance, to be later fully recorded*



~Appearance~


Denim bares the typical traits found as the markings of the Draugrim spirits: the thin and elongated tapered ears, the ever-pristine and angular visage, and the fair brown coat colorings. Her mane, an exceedingly dark, russet brown that hints at her mother’s bloodlines, is thick and long compared to the average and may often be allowed to fall about her face—most often when amongst others or within a larger population in order to cover her ears. Asides from those traits shared amongst the Draugrim, her eyes, a conspicuous blue, are the dominant striking feature about her. Like the rest of her kind, she will paint her frame with solutions concocted from plant life depending on the occasion at hand. There are two white handprint shapes, however, that are painted upon her shoulders regardless of happenstance, removed only for brief periods of time and a reminder as well as a symbol of the time she spent under the imprisonment of the Mori Rakka.



~Personality~

She possesses the same fiery aptitude of her mother, a Dolen fighter: “Less wise and more dangerous.” Yet she also possesses the same watchful eye as that of her father, keenly observant and collected in most of her movements. The maiden tends to be more at ease in solitude, often wary of strangers and reserved among others in her calculating and solitary nature. Quiet, though ready to speak her mind when pressed and quite sharply so, she tends to be brash to those who lack her trust and changes from her more silent self to that of her more bitter persona when her bounds are pushed. She has little to no tolerance of any creature whom seeks to gain the upper hand with her, with the exception that she has a greater plan behind allowing them to, and she has never taken kindly to a threat. While she might enjoy from time to time some of the more well-cultured aspects of her civilized race, she has never paused at the prospect of having to get dirty to get her job done.



~Experience~


*All Experiences recorded here are restricted to that which has actually occurred in rp within the game FH or other games/rp outlets. Past Experiences in her story, background, or outside of FH are not recorded here.

Ranks Occupied: Loner
Trainings Attended: None amongst a pack, a good many alongside her father
Trainings Given: --
Official Spars Won: --
Official Spars Lost: --
Multi-Pack Battles Seen: --
Lives Taken: 21
Tortures Endured: 12



~Relational Affairs~

Intrigued By: Currently interested in none
Chasing After: Currently pines for no male
Devoted To: Holds affections for none
Spawn: Has conceived none
Familial Relations: Falls in with no living family; Searching for her Matriarch



~Theme Videos~


"Hit Me Like a Man" by The Pretty Reckless:


"Hide" by Red:


"The Sealed Kingdom" By Adrian Von Ziegler:



~Translations~

> Vanya Draugrim: Meaning "Fair Wolves," the cumulative name for the species
> Dolen Draugrim: Meanings "Hidden Wolves," the distinction of the Draugrim that are considered less cultured and focus themselves more upon combat and physicality
> Eldar Draugrim: The distinction of the Draugrim that are considered more cultured and often concern themselves with politics, arts, and keeping of the lands
>Mori Rakka: Meaning "Dark Claw," those that hunt the Draugrim
> Mandos: Considered to be the spiritual presence responsible for the Draugrim in death

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