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Author Topic: Anjali al-Situla  (Read 319 times)

Description: Situla Survivor

Offline Anjali al-Situla

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Anjali al-Situla
« on: Feb 15, 19, 12:08:04 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Anjali al-Situla
Nicknames:
Age and Birth Year:  25 (AP 168)
Race:  Short Lived
Caste:  witch
Birth Territory:  Pruul
Home Territory: Pruul

Birthright Jewel: uncut Rose
Offering Jewel:  uncut Purple Dusk

Role: Weaver
Faction: Situla Clan

Appearance

Play By: Hammasa Kohistani
Distinguishing Features:

Personality


Personality:

Anjali is the sort of creature that drives men crazy, both with frustration and with desire.  She is sweet, affectionate, tender and doting but behind that, she is steel and stubborn rock.  She knows what she wants when she wants and who she wants and sometimes her timing is less than stellar but that doesn’t sway her.  It only makes her desire greater.

Anjali is a rock of loyalty.  Nothing short of utter betrayal can shake her stalwart convictions behind those who she has tied herself, especially her sister-cousins. To Anjali, nothing is more important than her family, Blood and chosen.  Her Tribe means everything to her and the decimation by the Sandworms has left her heart-broken and more determined than ever to see the Situla restored to their former glory. 

Vanity is not a factor when it comes to Anjali’s feelings of self-worth,  in fact, deep down she feels that she lacks in ways that her sister-cousins do not. They were born to Castes, with roles of importance that continue to help their Clan.  Not that she sees anything wrong with her lot in life, but there is still the twinge of jealousy that whispered in the back of her mind.  It is some ways is the driving force of her creativity, determination to use the skills and talents she does have to the betterment of everyone.

Anjali loves music and festivities; any excuse to celebrate, drink and enjoy yourself.  At parties and gatherings, she is usually the first person to jump up and lead the dance around the nightly fire.  She will sing her heart out though she can’t carry a tune worth a damn and does it with such Joie de vie that no one has the heart to silence her.

While Anjali can and has enjoyed the company of many many men within both her own Clan and those from others, there is one man that she has longed for since the first time he landed in her camp years ago.   She was still young before she had made her Offering, but the sight of that tall, tanned man with black wings had made her knees weak and her body throb.  She wanted him from that moment and anytime a cloud passed shadow above her, she would look to the skies hoping to see that dark silhouette above.

Likes:
  • Sex - don’t let her sweet face and large doe-like eyes fool you.  Anjali is a woman who enjoys the pleasures of the flesh immensely and has no qualms out seeking out partners to scratch her itches.  Romance and “forever” are not in her thoughts when she crawls into a man’s bed
  • Weaving - She enjoys creating woven rugs and blankets and has even designed her own collapsable loom that makes her days of travel with the caravan much simpler.
  • Stone carving- She likes to pick up interesting looking rocks while on caravan and in the evening hours around the campfire, she will chip and carve at the softer sandstone and make little figurines to sell for pennies to children.
Dislikes:
  • Relationships - Anjali is a woman who enjoys her freedom.  She vowed from a young age that she would never let herself be shackled in something as mundane and restricting as a marriage.  Arrangements can be long term, but with the understanding that nothing was exclusive or limiting for either person.
  • Children - Well that’s not fair to say, Anjali actually likes children.  She just enjoys being able to hand them over to their parents after getting to be the favorite playmate or auntie.  Still, if having children is her duty as a daughter of the Situla to ensure the continuation of her clan, she will do so as long as she can be assured of someone much more competent to tend to the little ones while she is working.
  • Clutter - Anjali is a very organized woman, everything neatly placed in its proper settings.  She gets a little irritated and twitchy if she walks into a situation where there is needless disorganization or clutter, urking her sometimes to the point where she will begin to tidy things properly - even if she’s in a setting where that would seem very rude.
Fears:
  • The collapse of the Situla - with the massacre of the Worms, she has become almost panicked at the thought of her beloved tribe becoming declared dead by the Queen of the Tabur.  Clan was family and there is nothing more important to Anjali than her family.
  • Scorpions - Estera was stung and was deathly ill when they were children and it made her terribly frightened that the same thing would happen to her.  Every night she pulls off all the covers of her bedding to check for the nasty creatures, shakes out all her shoes and Craft shields her clothing chests just to make sure none of them can get in.
  • Sandstorms - Anjali is not the type of woman who enjoys being cooped up in the cities, but one of the smaller blessings of the times when her caravan is camped at Onn is not having to worry about the sudden and destructive sandstorms that swept across the dunes.  Not that sandstorms couldn’t strike at the city, but the ability to shelter is much more reliable behind those large stone walls.
Craft Strengths:
  • Charisma - Anjali just has the natural ability to make you like her.  It’s a Craft strength only in the sense that she can use her Jewels to extend the range and amplitude to match her needs, as in making a hard sell of one of her creations.  Really though, she’s just so sweet looking that she rarely has to employ the Craft part of her charm to make things just go her way.
  • Fine Telekinetics - Anjali employs her abilities to deftly manipulate small touches of her Craft in the intricate patterns of weaving in her loom or to aid her in making the most minute details in her stone carvings.
Craft Weaknesses:
  • Powerbolts - Anjali isn’t a naturally violent person and hates actually harming anyone.  When her father attempted to teach her how to form and strike out with her Birthright power,  she had almost struck a passing clanmate.  Her guilt over almost harming someone who didn’t deserve it even so many years later makes her hesitant and very unfocused when lashing out with her power, subconsciously worried about harming a bystander.
  • Cooling Spells - Anjali is a woman you won’t often see outside of her tent during the light of day, simply because she lacks in the basic Craft to cool herself as many of the Blood do to withstand the heat of the sun.  On caravan and out in the desert where Craft is a dangerous  thing to avoid attracting sandworms, she doesn’t feel as if this weakness makes her stand out but
Life Story

Family:
Mother:  Devia al-Situla  (deceased)
Father:  Jebavar al-Situla,   Tiger Eye - Summer Sky Warlord (AP 143)
Siblings: Jeleel al-Situla (deceased)

Sisters-Cousins:

Jaleh al-Situla, Tiger Eye to Purple Dusk Healer
Estera al-Situla, Yellow to Summer Sky Priestess

History:
Anjali is the only living child of Devia and Jebavar al-Situla, two people who had the most impossibly romantic courtship, the stuff of which might only be found in epic poems and whose ending would have spawned equally romantic tragedies.   Jebavar was born to the Jinan, and as a horse trader would travel frequently among the various caravans, seeking contracts for studs and foaling services as well as hiring himself out as a trainer when needed.  It was during one of these ventures that he came across the caravan of a group of the Situla and spied Devia.  He was instantly enamored of the young woman and didn’t waste any time in introducing himself and telling her that one day she would marry him.   She laughed him off, finding him handsome and charming but as nothing more than a flirt.

Jebavar was completely serious in his pursuit, swearing himself to work for her father doing whatever task the man could come up with all to remain by her side and win her over.  Devia enjoyed the game of being courted, the gifts and the heavily laced words of devotion and after a time she began to slowly realize that he wasn’t just offering lip service.  His feelings were deep and genuine and once she accepted the truth of this; there was nothing to stop her own feelings from blossoming.  Before the year was out they were lovers and Jebavar took the Trials of the Situla, joining himself in Blood and honor to the Clan of his only love.   

Naturally, it wasn’t too long before Devia became pregnant and the couple was heartfelt in their excitement of adding a child to their happy life.  When the time of the birth came through, Devia became gravely ill, unable to eat or drink anything and her skin became ghostly pale.  The Healer was unable to figure out what was wrong with her and worried for the well-being of the child.  Her fears were warranted when Devia went into early labor, marked by pain and heavy bleeding that caused the concern that perhaps she wouldn’t survive the birth and they would lose both mother and child.  By some spark of miracle, Anjali was born small and blue but quickly revived and the Healer was able to staunch the bleeding, saving them both.  However, it was a costly miracle.  The Healer pronounced that Devia dare not ever attempt another pregnancy without the risk of being less fortunate the next time.

So the couple relished their beloved baby girl, who was the darling of her father and the twin of her mother in all things.   Treasured and doted upon by her whole family, her temperament was sweet enough that she was never unkind or spoiled by the affections.  If anything, it only magnified her empathy with others.  Her parents wondered if perhaps she would be called to the Healing Caste herself, but when no scent emerged as she grew, they were content that she was just as she was.   

A skill that manifested early, Anjali had a fascination with colors and fabric and during her Craft lessons would weave the ribbons used to practice passing through objects with a decorative flourish.  Her mother began to take her to their tribal weaver, who took the young girl under her wing and became her instructor in the art of the loom and how to create not only the fabrics that would be needed by the people but also how to weave the rugs that were popular among the desert travellers to place inside their tents to prevent walking on the hot sands. 

It was shortly after her birthright that Anjali’s world shifted beneath her like sand in a violent windstorm.  Her mother had become pregnant and what should have been a joyous occasion was filled with never-ending dread, the words of the Healer a constant pall on their upcoming arrival.  Devia struggled with the decision before her.  Attempt the pregnancy and tempt fate, or do what would be needed to ensure her own life.   Unable to resort to the alternative, Devia chose to wait.  Strangely, unlike with Anjali, there was no illness, no difficulties and Devia glowed with health and impending motherhood radiance.  The pair had released a deep sigh of relief as she grew in size, far past the point that Anjali had been born and all things appeared that another miracle had come to the small family.

Jebavar awoke one morning and when he went to rouse his beloved, he found her cold to the touch.  Her lips were blue and skin pale.  He called for the Healer and Anjali was shuffled away from the tent while the Healer attempted to revive Devia and when that proved useless, tried to save the child within.   It was far too late and after a time, Jebavar went to find his daughter and explain in simple honest words what had happened.  He had always been a bluntly honest man and would not disrespect his daughter’s intelligence by speaking down to her.  Her mother had passed in her sleep

Anjali surpassed her teacher in this skill and by her age of majority, she had taken over as the chief weaver for their tribe and taken two young women to apprentice beneath her.  Her rugs were so finely Crafted that they would fetch the highest prices as the quarterly markets when she would travel to Onn to sell her wares.  Merchants, eager for something of the exotic to take to other territories, were one of her largest sources of income and she made sure they paid top marks for her works.

In her weavings, she enjoys exploring patterns and techniques from territories outside of Pruul, and even outside of Terrielle.  Her most prized possession was a book that her father purchased for her at great expense that was an illustrated book of Dharoan tapestries and weavings.   When traveling caravans passed by their encampments she would browse all the foreign-based wares, studying colors and patterns and incorporating those into some of her workings based on the markets she was attending and patrons she knew would be interested.  Of course, her primary works were in Prullian designs, colors and Clan patterns and she was more than willing to take commissions for anyone willing to meet her price.  Marks all spent the same, no matter their origin.


Anjali, sweet and gentle as she could be, also had a bit of a fiery streak.  She was never meek or timid and made it very clear that no man would ever tame her or treat her as some sort of brooding mare.  She gave her father fits when he would find out about her newest exploits and when he had found out she had foolishly gambled her inner webs at far too young of an age to know about the pleasures of the bed, she had simply snorted at him and told him she had been perfectly sensible and picked a visiting Situla male who had a very good reputation for Virgin Nights.   It hadn’t been his fault that he didn’t know she had lied about her age, telling him she was 19 instead of 16 in her eagerness to know exactly what had all the older women so flustered about males.

After the attack of the Sandworms, which left Anjali cut off from her father and trapped within Onn, she has struggled with her sense of purpose and more importantly the future of the Situla.  Word has reached the survivors of the devastation that occurred to their people and the hope that the Situla would not be allowed to continue has Anjali worried.  The Situla would not and could not fade into the Darkness and while she might not be a Queen or another Casted witch, she would find a way to keep her Tribe alive.

Show Us What You've Got

Character in Play:

“He’s coming!”  came the cry from outside of Anjali’s tent.  She carefully put aside her shuttle and stepped back from her loom, looking over the emerging pattern with a practiced eye.  This cloth was specially requested to be made into a marriage gown and the intended bride had been fairly reasonable in her design request - only that Anjali work in her lover’s clan symbol, the Jinan.  Anjali loved a challenge and was currently weaving a dune pattern of pale yellow into the cream colored background of the fabric and into the dunes, running up and down were small hoof tracks that ran up and down in an undulating pattern.  It had been rather exhausting and she was ready for a break, for some water and a bite to eat.  Her Purple Dusk was drained and she had been working with her Rose and needed to rest before continuing on.   The cloth wasn’t needed for another month but she would rather make as much progress as she could in case there was a day or two she wasn’t able to.

Stepping out from the folds of material that shielded her from the heat and bright sun of the Pruulian desert, Anjali looked around as the members of her camp also emerged from tents in anticipation of whoever the visitor was.  Anjali looked out past the bordering torches, expecting to see the distant shadow of an upcoming rider or perhaps a caravan.  Some of the caravans would agree to act as transportation coaches for the right prices but the dunes rippled in the summer heat with the mirage of fluid movement and there was no sign of arrival.

The air above her moved, and a shadow passed above her close enough that whatever flew by caused her hair to fly forward over her shoulders as something large did a pass above the clearing between the tents and made another pass as if looking for landing.  Anjali squinted and lifted her hand up to shield her eyes as the silhouette of a man, a man who hovered with the backwing of a bird before landing gracefully in the sands near the firepit, emerged.

Anjali held her breath as a beautiful man appeared before her, the dark wings that had carried him folding gracefully behind his back.  Dressed in a simple linen shirt and slacks, his hair was damply ruffled by his flight.  His eyes were almost piercing blue, hypnotic and she found herself unable to look away until she finally let her eyes drift down the rest of his body.  He wasn’t overly tall, but that was alright and his muscular build showed through the fabric of his shirt as he moved, rippling in a way that suggested the cut of every line.  Anjali’s mouth began to water as she wanted to peel away that shirt and run her hands down the hard skin.

“Daughter,” she heard behind her and turned her head to see her father approaching from his own tent that was just beside her own.  She had insisted on her own tent after her 16th year, arguing that her work at the loom at all hours of the night would only disrupt his much-needed rest.  Besides, she would be right beside him and was well protected within the camp.   He had grumbled and groused, but as always finally gave in.  It wasn’t a lie, just a light omission of the fact that she would have a much harder time sneaking in the occasional paramore if her father was in the same room.   

He stepped up beside her, looking at the new arrival who was greeting the tribal elders with the utmost respect, “Ah good, Jasper has arrived.  I look forward to hearing his news.”  Anjali’s hand shot out and grabbed her father’s bicep.

“That’s Jasper?!”  Everyone had heard of Jasper al-Situla,  Warlord Prince of the Tribe but no one had told her that he was Eyrien.  She had assumed he was Pruulian, but those wings were unmistakable though his skin was far more tan than golden and his hair in the sunlight rippled with a mottle of browns instead of the jet black that the winged race was known for and then there were his eyes.  Anjali’s pulse quickened and she dropped her hand from her father’s arm before he felt the rush of it.

“Yes, that’s Jasper.   He’s making the rounds of the various encampments bringing us news and seeking out our girls who would be destined to Dareem al-Saleem.  He serves as Escort there and assists the Head Aubdina in selecting the Priestesses among us who shows the most promise of surviving the Rites and serving the Situla as a future Aub.”

Anjali’s teeth bit into her inner cheek as a bit of jealousy rose up.   Her sister-cousin Estera was showing strong promise in her lessons, he might pick her to accompany him.   He wouldn’t even look in her direction.  She wasn’t a Priestess and therefore had no importance to his endeavors.  She huffed softly under her breath as she studied those dark wings, tucked so close to his back that for a moment they might all be invisible.   Her fingers itched to reach out and feel them, wondered if they were hard and leathery or soft and silken as they appeared when the light struck them.

“I’ll be about after evening meals, don’t worry about me,” her father said, breaking her fantasies as he pressed his lips into her hair.  “Don’t work too hard darling, take some time this evening to rest and enjoy yourself.  With Jasper here, I’m sure there will be some fine stories told around the fire.  You should pause in your commission and join in.  Perhaps if there is time, you might show him some of your pieces.  I’m sure that the halls of Dar al Saleem would enjoy one of your rugs to line its stone halls.”

Anjali turned her head enough to smile at her father as he walked away, heading in the direction of the winged dream and the tribal elders had gone.  Yes, perhaps she would join the fire tonight and listen to the stranger talk and perhaps if the Darkness was kind, she would have to chance to steal him away and see if those lascivious tales about Eryian stamina were true.


Player Name:  Lene

Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #1 on: Feb 15, 19, 12:08:54 AM »
May I please have a general random roll for this lady?

No family rolls required, I PROMISE!







Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #2 on: Feb 19, 19, 11:31:58 PM »
*bumps up*  I think this got lost in the registry cleaning

 
May I please have a general random roll for this lady?

No family rolls required, I PROMISE!







Offline phinneas

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #3 on: Feb 20, 19, 08:12:16 AM »
It was indeed. Apologies!

Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with an uncut Rose Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with an uncut Purple Dusk Jewel at your Offering.

&

Congratulations!
phinneas@bloodrites.net  •  Discord: phinn#0798  •  Writer Tracker


Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #4 on: Mar 14, 19, 12:40:22 AM »
still keeping







Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #5 on: Mar 31, 19, 09:50:24 PM »
keeping







Offline Jamie

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #6 on: Apr 17, 19, 03:12:42 AM »

Registry Cleanup Notice
This character sheet has been inactive within the Keep's Registry for over 2 weeks. If you wish to keep this character sheet (including the Jewels rolled) you will need to reply to this thread within 2 weeks or else you will forfeit the character and the Jewels.










Please contact me via Email - not PM! <3 | GMT Time Zone
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Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #7 on: Apr 17, 19, 04:42:18 AM »
Keeping







Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #8 on: May 01, 19, 08:52:53 PM »
Keeping







Offline Lene

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #9 on: May 07, 19, 10:41:30 PM »
This Lady is ready for her closeup,

Just need Danika, Ember, and DG to check off because this character will have major interactions with the three of them.







Offline DragonGirl

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #10 on: May 07, 19, 10:47:09 PM »
Approved for me
Home is behind, the world ahead, And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night, Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead, We'll wander back to home and bed.







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Offline Danika

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #11 on: May 07, 19, 10:49:04 PM »
Jaleh can't wait to play with her sister! All good from me  :)
I am who I make myself to be and I am the only one who doesn't know who that is.




Offline Dash

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #12 on: May 08, 19, 08:57:03 PM »
Added to the que
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline EmberRose

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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #13 on: May 09, 19, 06:00:16 PM »
Looks good to me!
Life is an exercise in Balance


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Re: Anjali al-Situla
« Reply #14 on: May 14, 19, 08:39:13 AM »

This application has been reviewed!

Check your private messages for feedback. When you have made the requested changes please reply to this post and let us know you are ready for the next round!

i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night // writer tracker







 

 

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