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* Plot Information for Little Terreille

A naive Black Jeweled witch has destroyed the Territory Court. From its ashes a new court is being constructed, one run by a manipulative killer. As the blood runs in the streets of Goth from open gang warfare, the Steward of Little Terreille begins a gambit to rebuild the Territory from the ground up and challenge the Star of Kaeleer.
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Author Topic: Sri Miller  (Read 150 times)

Description: Landen Female. Played by z.

Offline Sri Miller

  • Character Account
    • landen
    • female
    • Role

      "Assistant Cook"

    • Faction

      Rockland Province

    • Territory

      Little Terreille

    • Character Sheet

      [Link]

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      z

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Sri Miller
« on: Apr 08, 18, 05:13:02 PM »
The Basics

Character Name: Sri Miller
Nicknames: Nah.
Age and Birth Year: 19 (b. 174 AP)
Race: Short-lived (½ Nharkavan, ½ LT)
Caste: Landen
Birth Territory: Rockland Province, Little Terreille.
Home Territory: Rockland Province, Little Terreille.

Role: Spy Assistant Cook
Faction: Rockland Province/Moe's school

Appearance

Play By: Seychelle Gabriel
Distinguishing Features: She has other clothes, but Sri wears the same outfit every single day. Same dress, same sweater, same lace-up boots and same holey knit stockings. Whether it's a hot summer day or a cold winter drizzle, dress, sweater, boots, stockings. She adds an apron when she's baking and occasionally varies her hairstyle, but that's it. Though her outfit is well-worn, it isn't dirty– Sri washes her stockings and underthings every night, and the dress and sweater twice a week.

Personality



Personality:

Her stare is intense, but she won't meet your eyes. Sri doesn't say much, other than to repeat back whatever is said to her, with perfectly-copied inflection but little sign of actual understanding. She seems to massively overreact to sounds or sensations: scratchy fabric against her skin or the noise of someone biting their nails are so painful as to drive her to tears. She moves jerkily, walks on her toes, and rocks back and forth when she sits down. Her hands are always moving, fingers tapping out boredom or agitation against her thigh, palms fluttering with happiness. She doesn't really speak, but Sri makes plenty of noise: a single word or syllable repeated over and over, a melody hummed while she works, her tongue clicking rhythmically.

Sri doesn't feel particularly slow. Her mind races with ideas, with epiphanies and questions and observations, thoughts tumbling wildly, colliding with other thoughts to create tangents that wind like rabbit warrens. She is curious about nature, about other people, about the way the world works. Sri leaps from thought to thought without pause, and becomes so absorbed in her own mind that she completely loses track of the outside world. She doesn't feel slow. But she must be. If everyone says that she's slow, they must be thinking even faster, or better, or in some dimension Sri can't comprehend. If everyone says it, it must be true.

tw: self harm in this paragraph

Sri, of course, understands everything. She isn't deaf. She isn't mute, either, but when she tries to put words together they come out all wrong or catch in her throat, and it's frustrating and difficult and sometimes the words burn in her mouth, taste all wrong, and it's unbearable. Sri understands what her family say to her, but they don't understand her. When she taps their hands (three times is "I love you"), they pull away. When she hums happily and her hands do a little dance, it's "Sri, stand still." When she's frustrated or angry and she slams her head against the wall, "young lady, you'll go to your room and stay there until you're ready to behave."

Sri lives in a world of intensity. Sounds are too loud, colors too vibrant, her skin is so sensitive that being touched unexpectedly physically hurts. She can get lost in how good it feels to sit and just rock back and forth, or spend half an hour rubbing her cheek against a soft blanket. She loves the way her mind works, the way she can see workarounds to problems nobody else has noticed yet, the way music just springs to her fingers, the way she remembers important details crisply. Sometimes Sri is frustrated by the way she reacts to plans changing by having a breakdown, or by the fact that she tries so hard to communicate but nobody else seems to make an effort to understand her. But she never wishes she was like everyone else. She can't imagine not being able to see the incredible beauty in a ripple of water, not feel the unadulterated all-encompassing joy of listening to music. She's always been different from everyone around her, it's the only existence she knows.

Likes:
  • Playing music. Her grandmother brought a Sarangi with her from Nharkava and taught Sri how to play it. When she plays, Sri's family listens to her. She pours her feelings out in the music, trying desperately to show her family that she loves them, understands them them, that she's trying to engage with them. They don't seem to really get it, but they like the music.
  • Long walks on the beach. Or at least long walks on the riverbank. Sri loves nature, and spends plenty of her free time walking in the fields on the outskirts of the city, climbing trees, and going down to the river to drop leaves into the water and watch the current take them.
  • Baking pastries. It's fiddly and time consuming and all about paying close attention and being methodical, and Sri's all about that.

    Dislikes:
  • Working in the bakery. Sri is good at baking– that isn't the problem. The bakery is overwhelming. It's busy, it's crowded, and it's full of customers with loud voices all talking at once. Sri's last attempt to work at the bakery ended with her huddled in a cupboard, sobbing and pulling at her hair.
  • Dirt. Sri is very, very clean. She washes her hands constantly, and scrubs herself in the bath until her skin is red. She washes her clothes meticulously and does most of the cleaning at home. Dirt or contamination on herself or her things can cause panic attacks.
  • Math. The only subject Sri didn't devour from her siblings' schoolbooks. She's fine with basic sums, but even multiplication and division are tedious. It isn't beautiful or meaningful, it's just a jumble of numbers to solve for no reason.

    Fears:
  • Her grandmother dying. It's bad enough that Sri doesn't get to see her Dādī much, now that she's moved back to the countryside, but to lose her forever would be unbearable. Of all her family members, her grandmother is the person Sri feels closest to. No matter how she tries to prepare herself for the inevitable, Sri can't make herself comfortable with the idea that someday (likely sooner rather than later), she'll never see her Dādī again.
  • Being yelled at. No matter how hard she tries, it seems like Sri is always messing up. She doesn't hear what someone says to her and guesses wrong, or she acts the wrong way or just seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she gets in trouble. Being yelled at makes her feel so small and insignificant, like no matter how hard she tries she'll never be good enough or smart enough or normal enough.
  • Burns. Sri has had plenty of careless moments while baking, and she's had plenty of mild to moderate burns. She's also seen some more serious ones, including what happens when someone spills boiling oil on themselves. It's made her learn to move very cautiously around fire and ovens.


    Strengths:
  • Memorization. Sri can repeat a paragraph-long phrase verbatim after only hearing it once, she remembers the melody of just about every song she's ever heard, and she can recite passages from books from memory. Not everything makes it into her brain– sometimes when people talk to her it's just like white noise coming out of their mouths– but when she absorbs something it seems to stick in there forever.
  • Physical strength. Sri is wiry and lean, but strong for her size. Hefting around large bags of flour and carrying toddlers while cleaning the house is a great way to build plenty of muscle. She can handle heavy weights, and has enough endurance to walk for several hours at a time without long breaks.

    Weaknesses:
  • Reading body language. Facial expressions and body language are a mystery to Sri, like a secret code that everyone but her seems to know. Basic emotions are easy– smiling is happy, crying is sad, eyebrows down and arms crossed is angry– but beyond that, it's completely unclear to her. Sri is constantly making guesses about the emotional states of the people around her, trying to intuit their feelings and needs with only the barest of hints. This guessing game is exhausting, and Sri often focuses so intently on trying to decipher people's emotional states that she completely misses what they're saying to her. Life would be much simpler if everyone just said what they were feeling.
  • Time management. Sri is a champion at losing track of time. She'll start a quick chore and then realize several hours went by while she was focusing. She has trouble keeping track of her own schedule, and tends to sleep at the wrong times. This leaves her tired and out of sorts, and she's usually late to appointments (or sometimes incredibly early, because she overcompensates).


    Life Story

    Family:
    Mother: Ida Miller, Landen female, age 44 (b. 149 AP). Co-owns a bakery with Mitesh.
    Father: Mitesh Chakravarti Miller, Landen male, age 43 (b. 150 AP).
    Grandmother: Versha Chakravarti, Landen female, age 71 (b. 122 AP).
    Siblings:
    Navneet Miller, Landen male, age 22 (b. 171 AP). A baker.
    Leela Miller, Landen female, age 20 (b. 173 AP). Also a baker.
    Raj Miller, Landen male, age 17 (b. 176 AP). Works in the bakery as a cake decorator.
    Anushka Miller, Landen female, age 11 (b. 182 AP).
    Haroun Miller, Landen male, age 9 (b. 184 AP).


    History:


    Sri grew up in a lower middle class family in Eastville, Rockland Province. Her parents run a reasonably successful bakery and are able to provide for their six children– no extras, but everyone is fed, clothed, and educated. By the time Sri was a toddler, it was clear that she was different from her older siblings. She didn't play the same way, she had more screaming tantrums. She was clumsy and uncoordinated, even for a toddler. But her parents had a business to run and more children to raise, and Sri was expected to fall in line. She never really progressed from babbling to talking. She was nearly twelve before she was able to use simple phrases like "thank you" or "nice to meet you."

    She tried to fall in line. She really did. Sri learned to stop herself from bouncing up and down with excitement, from shrieking in annoyance, from endlessly repeating comforting phrases. The more energy she poured into trying to control her behavior, the less she seemed to have for other things, but trying to act like everyone else made her family happy, at least. Sri's grandmother was the only person who didn't seem desperate to make Sri into something she wasn't. When she'd have a screaming, shaking meltdown, her Dādī would wrap her arms around Sri and rock her gently. She never tried to make Sri wear uncomfortable scratchy clothes, or eat slimy foods that made her gag, or stop humming all the time. One of the only things Versha had brought with her when she emigrated from Nharkava was a sarangi– a stringed instrument played with a bow– and she would play for her grandchildren often. Sri was enchanted. Whenever the sarangi appeared, Sri would fall silent, stare at the bow as it danced across the strings, and rock back and forth in time to the music. When Sri was big enough to get her hand around the fingerboard, Versha taught her to play. She excelled, and sarangi became her outlet. Thirteen-year-old Sri's world was rocked when her grandmother decided to move back to the village Mitesh and Ida had grown up in. She'd come to help her son and daughter-in-law start their business and their family, and now that they were on their feet, she wanted to go back home. Before she left, she gifted Sri her sarangi. Sri cried for two days straight.

    Sri didn't get to go to school. She was "slow" and "simple" and her parents felt her time was better spent taking care of her younger siblings. She taught herself to read by following along with her sister's homework, sounding out the words in her head, practicing writing on Leela's slate while she played with her friends. Mathematics wasn't as easy as writing, but Sri learned basic addition and subtraction the same way, reading her sister's schoolbooks and practicing while she was supposed to be doing chores. When her younger siblings were old enough to not need constant supervision, Sri's parents decided it was time for her to work in the bakery. Sri was comfortable with baking, but the crosstalk and bustle of the bakery was so overwhelming that she had sobbing, shaking meltdowns every time she spent more than a few hours in the shop. It took a while to convince her parents that this situation was untenable, but after a few tries, they conceded. The compromise was that Sri would work at the bakery's market stall. The market was outdoors, which meant no unbearable small-loud-room, and she would only have to serve one customer at a time. Sri didn't enjoy working the market stall, but as long as she showed up and let people exchange coins for pastries, her parents didn't much care what she did in her free time. They had a business to run, five other children, and they'd mostly given up on trying to make their halfwit daughter act normal.

    Sri met Moe Striker at the market stall. He smiled and was always polite to her, and his voice was nice and smooth and deep, which made Sri want to repeat everything he said. Moe noticed her talent for memorization and eventually offered her a job as a messenger. Sri kept working at the market, but occasionally Moe would drop by and have her memorize something, then find a specific person and repeat what he had said, and then come back to him with the reply. It was an easy job, and Sri liked it. It was more engaging than working at the market, and Moe was one of the only people who didn't just assume she was an idiot. The more messages she delivered for Moe, the more he seemed to trust her. The job progressed from just relaying a few sentences, to entire paragraphs, to Moe sending Sri to eavesdrop on whole groups of people. Nobody ever paid her any attention, which suited her purposes just fine.

    She'd stayed out late one night, eavesdropping at a bar for Moe, and by the time she met up with him to go over what she'd heard, it was nearly dawn. When he asked if her parents would be worried about her, Sri couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles. He managed to tease a bit more information about her home life out of her in yes or no answers, Sri trying to explain in gestures that everything really was fine, Moe not believing her. The next day he offered her a full time job at his school, with room and board. Officially, she'd be the assistant cook. Unofficially, she'd be a spy. It didn't take much convincing– Sri's parents were mostly just glad to have one fewer mouth to feed. The transition has been a little rough, but Sri is also excited to finally feel in control of her own life and be out from under her parents controlling-yet-neglectful thumbs.


    Show Us What You've Got

    Character in Play:

    "What kind is that one?" The scratchy-voiced woman jabbed her long, thin finger at the pastry, just a hair away from actually touching it. Sri shuddered, imagining the woman's dirty nail touching the pastry and contaminating it. With a sigh, Sri pointed at each plate of sweets in turn, naming them from left to right. "Apricot, raspberry, butter, coconut, almond, pumpkin, rose, custard."

    The woman frowned, and jabbed her finger at another pastry, actually touching it this time. Sri made a mental note to set that one aside as soon as the lady left. "And this one?"

    Why didn't people ever pay attention? Sri started again, slower this time. "Apricot. Raspberry. Butter. Coconut. Almond. Pumpkin. Rose. Custard."

    "No no, this one." The scratchy-voiced woman jabbed her finger at the pastry again, her filthy fingernail leaving a crescent-shaped dent in the crust.

    It's almond and you're awful, Sri wanted to say, but the words got stuck between her brain and her mouth and all that came out was an exasperated whine. Instead, she pointed wordlessly at the label on the plate. Nobody ever read the labels. Sri didn't understand why, but three years of working at the market stall had taught her that signage was completely useless.

    "Does it have nuts in it? I don't like nuts." The woman asked. The question was so ridiculous that Sri couldn't stop herself from giggling. The scratchy-voiced woman didn't seem to like that, and she pursed her lips and drew her eyebrows together. Sri slapped her hand over her mouth.

    "You're a very rude girl. I'd like to speak to your boss about how unhelpful you've been."

    Sri's brother Haroun was supposed to be with her, in case she got herself in trouble like this. Babysitting her, really. But he'd slipped away to play with some friends, and Sri was all alone behind the counter. Her fingers tapped out an anxious beat against her leg, and she squared her shoulders and looked up, staring at the woman's mouth– the closest she could comfortably get to eye contact.

    "No. Sorry. Have a nice day." She had nothing else to say– no pre-rehearsed phrases for your question was stupid and I wish you'd leave, and no way to tell the woman that her parents would laugh at her idiotic question too– they'd just have the sense to do it behind her back. So Sri just turned her back on the woman. She'd be scolded later, if her parents found out how she'd handled the situation, but simply facing away was the fastest way to make rude customers leave. She waited until the woman's sputtering and threats to never buy pastries here again died out, and turned back around to face the next customer in line. It was one of her regulars, a sweet old man who came for a snack every morning, and Sri was so delighted to see him that she grinned and fluttered her hands in the air.

    "Hello! Good-morning-how-may-I-help-you!" She blurted out her script so quickly that the words ran together, and finished off with a happy little hum. The man (she didn't know his name, she couldn't ask) just laughed, and greeted her warmly. Mostly, Sri hated working the market stall. It wasn't as awful as the bakery, but even with her practiced, memorized phrases, talking to customers was so draining that after work, Sri's head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and her heart hammered painfully in her chest. Customers like the sweet old man didn't make it worth it: Sri still hated her job, hated that her parents didn't seem to care how uncomfortable she was, hated wasting her time sitting behind the counter. But he was a bright spot in her day, a moment of happiness, a reminder that not everyone was rude and stupid.

    She'd take it.


    Player Name: z

Offline Merihem Striker

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #1 on: Apr 08, 18, 05:17:49 PM »
All good for the Moe references! Welcome to the X-Men, *ahem*, school!

Offline z

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #2 on: Apr 08, 18, 05:20:23 PM »
Ready for review!

Offline phinneas

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #3 on: Apr 09, 18, 09:15:14 AM »
Added to the queue.

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

Offline Dash

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #4 on: Apr 12, 18, 12:34:27 PM »

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!

Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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Offline z

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #5 on: Apr 13, 18, 10:34:18 AM »
Changes made, ready for round two!

Offline Dash

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Re: Sri Miller
« Reply #6 on: Apr 13, 18, 12:01:53 PM »
Email: Dash@Bloodrites.net   Discord: Dash#6159

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