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Author Topic: Naomè Jenõsys <-<>-> Vagrant <-<>-> The Afluent Vagabond  (Read 90 times)
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Naomè Jenõsys
New Santharian

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Gender: Female
Posts: 48

« on: December 24, 2007, 03:53:04 PM »

Name: Naomè Jenõsys
Occupation: Vagrant
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Tribe: Blaar'kr
Age: 19
Eye Color: Vontromarine
Hair Color: Charcoal with a Xazure twinge.
Skin Color: Umarillion
Height: 1 Ped, 2 Fores, 6 Nailsbreadths
Weight: 12 Hebs, 2 Ods
Body Type: Slim/Slender
Title: The Afluent Vagabond


A young and vibrant face, supple lips, and piercing Umarillion eyes are delicately framed by sensuous charcoal black hair. Her black eyebrows are thin and sharp on smooth glossy skin, perched above her interestingly painted eyes. The eyes are what catches passersby the most; something in those ocean colored voids have strange hypnotic qualities. Dark teki colored lips move sensually, occassionally reveiling a sliver of shaply teeth, the color of Cyhalloiian snow. A thin layer of makeup covers her smooth cherubic cheeks above her high dainty jawline. Her nose is short and curvy, extending slightly above her slightly puckered lips.

A strange but everyday necessity, she applies thick black Tansin oil as eyeliner, and again beneath her eyes in a starshot pattern. It is often assumed that this is either foreign, rebellious, or a simply creative way of beautifying one's self. However, the real reason why it is a necessity to Naomè, is that due to the rare but potent Aramyrian disease, she has intensely sensitive eyes. The black star-shaped formation actually repels light away from the eyes so that one may see during a sunny day or when light is reflected right into one's face.

Soft silky charcoal hair cascades about her face like a waterfall of lush wavy magic. Her hair is soft to the touch, and shiny, dropping to the waist in full length. She prefers to leave it down, especially when she weaves soft gold into it for sophisticated parties and get-togethers. Practically obsessed with brushing it, you will rarely find a day when Naomè goes without her routine of washing and scenting her hair. Once this and her daily application of makeup is complete, she considers herself "public-ready".

Against her lusty tan viperene skin tone and her dark hair, her Umarillion eyes leap off her face like pearls in a pot of common pebbles. They are so captivating and enticing, that one feels they could drink from them and taste the sweet nectar of ecstasy. Beneath them, equally seductive, however less pronounced, her supple and delicious lips are naturally slightly puckered and parted, leaving a sense of wanting and sexual invitation.

Her definite hips snap back and forth like a cat as she walks. Smooth round buttocks roll side to side. Thin corded thighs ripple under lusterous skin. Calves flex and unflex as she dances on her toes. Sweat rolls off her tight stomach muscles and down her lower back, giving her tan skin a sexy shimmer. Firm luscious breasts press against her taut corset gown as she descends the royal staircase. A thin dainty arm oustretches in acceptance to dance. Her brow furrows as she struggles over a difficult Tharian phrase. Her brain ticks away as her lips lust for fresh meat.

As is customary of her home tribe, the left eyebrow is peirced with a small silver ring. She also has a lip peircing, but rarely wears anything in it.

A magnificent gown the color of Bavera's eye is often warn by Naomè when she isn't traveling. Although she bought it in Nybelmar, the exact origin is unknown. It is speculated that it's elaborate golden embroidery is of unique and extinct origin, however such cannot be proven. It accentuates her bossom quite nicely, with a built in corset, tightly strapped midsection, and lacy breast-region. The gown is not very wide, and allows room to walk and manuever with relative ease. Darker shoes match it with tasteful perfect, which are also embroidered with a similar golden pattern.

When on the move, Naomè has no qualms about wearing an older battered white gown. Draped around herself would be an obsidian colored cloak in which the hood could cast her face in shade if needed. White shoes match the old gown, which in actuality portrays her form just as beautifully as the gown with the corset. Regardless, her love for fashion and sex appeal reigns supreme.

Jewelry is of utmost importance. An emerald amulet with Korweyn gold relayed into the frame sits above her breast, being her only surving family heirloom and a foreboding reminder of her inner demons. Seven thin gold bands dangle from her wrists, one with several small diamonds mounted in the rim. Two purple quartz earrings are worn in each ear, and a tiny silver loop is worn above her left eye.

Naomè's first personality is herself, Naomè. This is her normal self... the one who thinks rationally, feels emotion, deals with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and with all the pain that fate has dealt her. She is usually reserved in the sense that her long dark past has tamed this side of her. She holds a lot of fear and trepidation, as well as paranoia and dispair. This part of her personality takes joy in things like a stroll in the rain, a beautiful sunny day, a tasteful piece of literature, or a long meaningful conversation with a close friend.

Naomè's second personality is her alter ego, Cassika. This is her divided self... the merciless, soulless, sex loving, cold blooded killer. This side of Naomè enhances her Aramyrian attributes to a sick and abusive level. She abides by naught but carte blanche, and operates without a conscience. She does not fear any god or mortal, has no qualms with betrayel, and operates with notorious criminals. Cassika is aware of Naomè's actions, however, but Naomè is not aware of what Cassika is doing. Cassika is the one which normally operates at night, but regardless of the schedule, the two switch off after a period of sleep, usually longer than an hour. Cassika is more sinister and caniving than Naomè, but if Naomè can cheat sleep or outsmart her, then she can decrease the amount of damage Cassika will do once she takes over.

Naomè's third personality is her deviant ego, Feira. This is her uncrolled self, the angry, rageful, out of control entity operating out of retaliation only. This level of consciousness can only be reached if Cassika reaches such a state of distress that all she can do is resort to a primal level of being. Feira will strike out at friends and enemies alike with no calculation for what damage or retribution may return to herself. She is extremely powerful, controlled only by adrenaline and epinefrin. Her pupils usually dialate at this point, and she ignores even the severest of pain. At a point of intense stress, she can even go into shock or have a heart attack. Sometimes her hostility can turn inward and she will attempt suicide or self mutilation in order to reduce the level of raw anger inside her. Once this level is lowered enough, she will pass out and wake up as Naomè with severe memory loss and brain damage.


1. Wealthy
In their will, Naomè's parents reliquished all of their family fortune to her, as is customary with the eldest daughter. Shortly after, however, she fled to Sarvonia aboard a fishing boat in order to get away from something that she believed to be following her. Hardly runaway clothes, Naomè refuses to wear not but the finest gowns, especially her own personal favorite buy, and expensive shoes to match. Her pallet matches her love of proper etiquette, and she simply must have delicious food in the proper company. Often after she works at the local tavern as an exotic dancer, she will walk across town prior to work in order to eat high quality food in a classier restaraunt.

2. Hypnotic Personality
Naomè is so good at communicating that she can practically get anything she wants out of anyone. Some speculate that she must've had experience acting in a troupe of some kind, but this isn't the case. She just has a natural talent for reading people like books. Unfortunately, she also has a tendency to exploit them. She knows every trick in the book to seducing a man, and she's even seduced a few women in her time. She can pretend like she's poor, being abused, or been robbed, and get money from someone she doesn't even know. Facial expressions are a specialty of hers, and she can read so far into them as to tell what is specifically wrong with any given person. She can offer sincere or fake condolences and gain a new friend as easily as if she was faking distress herself. Regardless, probably one of her most prized talents is getting people to do her bidding.

3. Literate
An avid reader, Naomè grew up around books and in a well-to-do family. Despite her rather perverse relations, for the most part Naomè would spend long days alone, reading in her father's stuffed armchair, on the rug in front of the fireplace, or in her own bedroom. From a young age she began reading books far beyong her years, and actually began teaching herself before she was even sent off to school. Her tastes in subjects are vast, and she knows quite a lot of useless facts and information. Perhaps some time in her life she will use all of this information.

Unlike a large portion of Santharians, she can read and write, which is very helpful when dealing with business, traveling, and finding directions. There have been countless times when people tried to con her because they assumed she couldn't read. Fortunately they were wrong.


1. Aramyrian Disease Victim
During Naomè's travels, she ran into a group of Dark Elves while out on her own in the middle of the night. They were drunk, infected with the Aramyrian disease, and so they decided to play with her. After chasing her down, slashing her with daggers and swords, they tied her down to a log. They each took turns spitting into her forced-apart mouth as she screamed in agony. Also, they bit her wrists and neck, spreading the Aramyrian disease in which their own veins contained.

A day later, she awoke with the sizzling hot sun blinding her and burning her skin. She shrieked in pain and agony, as she was left tied to the log. She eventually broke free. Over the following two weeks, many changes occured. Her eyes began very sensitive to light, her skin became thinner, and she began craving raw meat and blood. Soon, it came to the point where she had to feast on one other person every few nights in order to keep herself from deteriorating.

She also became addicting to sex, and found it painful to go without it. Her fertility dropped to such an extent that she could have her way with several men a night and never worry about pregnancy. Depression began to fill her life and her heart, which began turning black in the process.

2. Rape Victim
On the map of Naomè's life, one will find several interesting correlations and unusual discrepancies. One of which will be the amount of times she has been involved in rape or sexual coersion. As a young woman, perhaps around age fifteen, Naomè was coerced into sexual relations by her uncle. Months later it was discovered that she was pregnant. Her mother gave her drugs which would kill the baby, as it was considered an abomination on her own part. Once again she was raped and torture by True Vision practicioners, and again by two young orcs. On the other side of the spectrum, she's persuaded a great number of men into manipulative sex, as well as a few women.

3. "The Curse" and Paranoia
Due to a chain of very unfavorable and negatively life altering events in her early life up to now, Naomè has come to the firm resolution that she is being stalked by a demon of misfortune that is bent on finishing her off. Because of this, she is in constant waryness of everyone around her and their motives. Every time something tragic occurs, which for some mysterious reason seems to happen quite alot for her, she will pack her bags and move on. This has turned her into a wanderer for the rest of eternity.

She doesn't like shadows, as this reminds her of the fate which hovers over her head like a thundercloud. The reasoning behind this is unclear. She also loves fire, as she draws warmth, security, and protection from it in a way that she feels safe from damage. She doesn't like orcs, and is under the impression that whenever an orc is around, something will go awry. Everything about these thoughts is irrational, yet it is still there, and still unavoidable to Naomè.

4. Schizophrenia From Emotional Trauma
The developement of an unstable split personality was a result of many negative things building up one after another. Becoming an Aramyrian, the death of her parents, the multitude of rapes, the deaths of several close friends, as well as her own reactionary emotions added into the mix create an unstable lapse between two or three sides of the brain. On one side, Naomè is a sincere, emotionally worn, sex detesting, curious, inquisitive, innocent, somewhat drab, victim. On another side, she is fake, aloof, sex loving, vicious, murderous, caniving, and manipulative. The third side is rare but dangerous; she is angry, full of unchanneled hatred, blind, bloodstarven, and cutthroat.

Most of the time, Naomè remains within the bounds of her first personality, however, whenever she goes to sleep, she switches back and forth between the first and the second personality. Also, her memory operates independently for each personality, so she never remembers what she's done. Sometimes she can be caught talking to her reflection or arguing with herself. Whenever she notices that she's being watched, she switch back to her "ordinary" self. Because of this, she often dreads going to sleep and in some circumstances this often puts her in danger. She had absolutely no control of herself.

  • 1 Leather purse
  • 1 Satin coinpurse
  • 1 Orb, 17 K'rl, 5 G'rl
  • 7 Muts of Tansin Oil
  • 2 Gowns
  • 2 Pairs of shoes
  • 1 Cloak
  • 1 Tiny music box.
  • 1 Silver eyebrow loop (piercing)
  • 2 Purple quartz earrings
  • 7 Golden bangles
  • 1 Emerald amulet.
  • 1 2.4 Firkin flask of water
  • 4 Scups of crushed vegetables
  • 1 Handblade (1.9 Palmspans)

Naomè glances over her shoulder, wary of what may be following her. The floorboards above her creak, and the hallway tips gently, like a cradle, side to side. She passes lantern after lantern, shuddering as her own shadow flits across the opposing wall. The smell of the ocean squeazes up through the bilge of the ship and fills her nostrils. She turns the corner, picking up her pace, and glancing back even more anxiously. Voices from above her echo in her ears.
"Easy girl," she whispers to herself, "there's nobody behind you."
"Really?" returns a hot vicious voice, somehow coming from her own lips, "I'd say there's someone in front of us."
"Shut up, Cassika," Naomè growls.
"Why, dear?" Cassika giggles, "aren't you having fun running from fate?"
Naomè shook her head and Cassika fades away. She tucks a loose strand of dark black locks back behind her ear, hugs her bag close, and ascends the ladder before her.

"Welcome to Port Milkengrad, milady!" smiles a portly sailor as he extends an arm. Naomè grabs his hand, and he hoists her up onto the deck. Naomè glances around suspiciously, without yet returning a reply.
"Is something the matter, miss?" he asks inquisitively.
Naomè swallows, "No, but thank you..." With a not so reassuring half-smile, she moves around him and walks to the edge. She alights from the ship onto a thick and stable dock, which is bustling full of travelers and sailors. She strolls down the dock, attempting to weave in and out of the thick crowd. She reaches the edge of the dock and approaches the city gate.

"Halt, miss," orders the city guard posted at the gate. "You have your papers?"
The guard is a charming young man, perhaps twenty five. If Naomè weren't herself, she'd probably be quick to flirt with him. Instead, she passively averts her gaze, downcast, and simply shakes her head.
"No problem," smiles the guard, "come right this way and we can get you a new form."
"Alright," she murmurs under her breath, lifting her head to follow. The guard leads Naomè into an office of some sort. He takes the desk and offers Naomè a seat across from him. Slowly she sits down, crossing her legs and placing her purse in her lap. Her eyes are weak, and every so often they flutter with exhaustion.

"Name?" he asked, drawing a quill, an inkwell, and a blank form.
"Naomè Jenõsys" she whispers, staring at her shoes.
"I'm sorry?" he says gently.
"Naomè Jenõsys," she says, louder, with a wavering voice. He nods, dips his feathered quill into the inkwell, and begins scratching away at the piece of parchment.
"You can write..." Naomè whispers observantly. Perhaps there is a question hidden in there somewhere, but the guard has not heard, and so she will never know...
"Age and birth date?" The guard asks.
"The thirteenth day of the Rising Sun..; I have nineteen years." she answers. The guard is about to jot this down, when he stops abruptly, scrutinizing the woman.
"Your accent... you are Blaar'kr?" he speculates inquisitively.
"Why yes..." Naomè says, sitting up sharply, "How do you know?"
"I have some Blaar'kr lineage myself..." he explains, "my grandfather immigrated all the way from Nybelmar."
She smiles, glancing at her shoes again, but she feels slightly brighter inside.
"My name is Sariq," he says grinning.
"He's cute," whispers Cassika in Naomè's ear, "I think I'll take him to bed with us."
"Stop it you b*tch!" Naomè hisses under her breath.
"What was that?!" Sariq asks in alarm.
Naomè shakes her head, deeply trouble, "It's nothing..."
"Purpose in Milkengrad?" The guard asks.
"So... sleepy..." she sighs, trying to force her eyelids open, "must not fall asleep..."
"I'm sorry?" he asks, slightly more firm.
"M-my purpose?" she asks. "...Well... I... I don't really have a job..."
Sariq examines her with intense curiousity. "Well then how do you expect to provide yourself with food and shelter?" he asks, seemingly concerned for her wellbeing.
"Oh, I have plenty of money," she nods fervently, "my parents both left me with a small fortune when they... were murdered."
Naomè's vision went blurry. Her head began lolling as her eyelids fell.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about your parents... -Are you alright?"

Naomè's head comes to a rest on her shoulder, eyes closed in slumber. Sariq gazes at the girl curiously. Must not fall asleep? He pondered the meaning of the girl's strange demeanor.
"Naomè?" he asks, curiously but gently prodding her awake.

With a snap, her hand flashes out and catches Sariq's wrist. Her nails dig in causing blood to surface. Her face tilts up, casted in shadow by a cruel and twisted smile of another soul.

"I killed them," she grins, "My parents. I killed them, and I killed by uncle. What a bastard... he deserved it... My friends... I killed them too. They didn't believe me, you see... I cut Kareesh's throat... threw her little brother out a window... he was a witness... what could I have done? Killed Eries too... fed him poison at the dinner table... he wouldn't stop asking me about them... my victims... my family..."

"Naomè!" he screams in alarm, "Naomè Jenõsys, LET GO!" Blood dribbles down his forearm and pools on the table, mingling with the fresh black ink.

"Naomè isn't home right now!" growls Cassika, now fully formed in Naomè's body, "I'll give her the message when she returns... you, on the other hand, won't be around to do it yourself..."

With a flash of steel, a dagger emerges from within the confines of Naomè's cloak and plunges itself into Sariq's flesh, just below his belly button. Blood fountains as he gasps for air. Naomè's thin tongue snakes out from between her luscious cherry lips and licks his throat. Before Sariq can find the energy to scream again, she plunges her teeth deep into his vocal cords, and drinks fully from his delicious arteries.

She wipes the blood from her dagger and mouth, quickly filling in the rest of her documentation. She pushes his body under the desk, rolls up the parchment, and leaves with all of her things. Staying to the outskirts of the city, she quickly locates the general stables. Slipping inside she informs the stable boy that a horse has broken loose. He runs outside to investigate, as she commandeers a horse and takes off for the road.
« Last Edit: Yesterday at 03:40:42 PM by Twén Aråerwén » Logged

Simonne Miller
Meddling Herbalist
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Gender: Female
Posts: 1270

Human, Caltharian

« Reply #1 on: December 24, 2007, 08:27:11 PM »

Please use Name - Tribe - Occupation in your title :)

Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art...

Simonne Miller
Naomè Jenõsys
New Santharian

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Gender: Female
Posts: 48

« Reply #2 on: December 31, 2007, 10:00:17 PM »

Okay, thank you.  grin

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Posts: 1892

« Reply #3 on: January 01, 2008, 01:32:29 AM »

You seem to have gotten the Blood Eye Cult and the True Vision Cult mixed up.  The Blood Eye Cult is banned though.  I think Rayne said the intention was for them to be some sort of North Sarvonian rumour, not people you would actually encounter. 

Naomè Jenõsys
New Santharian

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Gender: Female
Posts: 48

« Reply #4 on: January 03, 2008, 09:44:06 AM »

Oh, right, *smacks forehead*, duh. Heh, I must have had True Vision Cult on the brain for some reason. You wouldn't believe what comes out of my head when I'm tired.

Anyways, I removed any mention of cults, as to avoid causing friction in the restrictions category.

My history is... kinda different...
I was in a really creative mood at the time, so I'll just tone it down a bit the next time I get comments to integrate. Oh yeah, and I'll also add loads about her time on Nybelmar, as soon as I get some time. For now, comment away!

Anyways, thanks.  grin
« Last Edit: January 03, 2008, 09:47:53 AM by Naomè Jenõsys » Logged

Twén Aråerwén
Melancholy Mage
CD Mod
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Posts: 2448

Elf, Ifer’hém

« Reply #5 on: Yesterday at 03:40:26 PM »

The Aramyrian disease is limited in regards to its entries definition. Since the only victims are not human and even then limited to The Blood Eye Cult and they are mythical. It is impossible for a human or any character to be afflicted with it.
The only victims of this disease have been dark elves. This may be because only dark elves are allowed to join the notorious  Blood Eye Cult, whose members are the only known victims of this disease.
In the context of the entries limitations it is impossible for this character to have the disease.

P.S.: A spell-check is needed for this entire CD.
Cáo cár'tuulenís:Twen Araerwen
« Last Edit: Yesterday at 03:43:26 PM by Twén Aråerwén » Logged

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