Difference between revisions of "Aysel Avci"
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<span style="color:#000000;">'''Appearance:''' Aysel is exotic even for a Turkish odalisque; had she been born in the modern world, she would almost certainly have been a world class super-model. She is just a touch short of five foot six inches tall. She is both heavier and more muscular than your average super-model, for she has the well developed athletic body of a professional dancer and probably weighs about one-hundred-thirty pounds. Aysel does not wall so much as drift from one place to another and her every gesture betrays a natural grace that has become a centuries deep muscle-memory. While she does on occasion wear modern western fashions for women, is is not a preference, but rather a gesture meant to please whichever westerner she has chosen to grace with her presence. More often than not, she wears the fashions of a seventeenth century Turkish harem lady, preferably silks in numerous layers accentuated by a wide variety of jewelry, and a sheer veil. Aysel has the face of an antique porcelain doll, which can portray a staggering number of emotions at a nearly preternatural speed without betraying a word, the most common being stunning boredom, smoky sensuality or predatory hunger. Her hair is a lustrous walnut brown with auburn highlights that naturally hangs to her hips, but when she has plans to go out, she either has it cut into the latest fashion for the purposes of style or simply crops it into a manageable pony-tail should she have need to move quickly. Her eyes are a pale hazel, the color of dark champagne, but when she becomes passionate they become almost green. Over the centuries, Aysel's complexion has steadily darkened to a milk chocolate swarthiness which lends itself to the mortal perception of her as an avid sun-bather, a misconception she subtly encourages. | <span style="color:#000000;">'''Appearance:''' Aysel is exotic even for a Turkish odalisque; had she been born in the modern world, she would almost certainly have been a world class super-model. She is just a touch short of five foot six inches tall. She is both heavier and more muscular than your average super-model, for she has the well developed athletic body of a professional dancer and probably weighs about one-hundred-thirty pounds. Aysel does not wall so much as drift from one place to another and her every gesture betrays a natural grace that has become a centuries deep muscle-memory. While she does on occasion wear modern western fashions for women, is is not a preference, but rather a gesture meant to please whichever westerner she has chosen to grace with her presence. More often than not, she wears the fashions of a seventeenth century Turkish harem lady, preferably silks in numerous layers accentuated by a wide variety of jewelry, and a sheer veil. Aysel has the face of an antique porcelain doll, which can portray a staggering number of emotions at a nearly preternatural speed without betraying a word, the most common being stunning boredom, smoky sensuality or predatory hunger. Her hair is a lustrous walnut brown with auburn highlights that naturally hangs to her hips, but when she has plans to go out, she either has it cut into the latest fashion for the purposes of style or simply crops it into a manageable pony-tail should she have need to move quickly. Her eyes are a pale hazel, the color of dark champagne, but when she becomes passionate they become almost green. Over the centuries, Aysel's complexion has steadily darkened to a milk chocolate swarthiness which lends itself to the mortal perception of her as an avid sun-bather, a misconception she subtly encourages. | ||
| − | <span style="color:#000000;">'''Behavior:''' | + | <span style="color:#000000;">'''Behavior:''' Whether encountered in person or through letters, she never uses telephones, Aysel portrays a studied modesty accentuated by skilled and subtle flirtation. Unless pressed to violence or taken by the Beast, all social interactions imply the sensual promise of seduction and the erotic fulfillment which follows. However, by nature, Aysel is not a flirtatious cougar on the prowl or an elder suffering from nymphomania, rather these masks hide the thoughtful woman of intelligence that hides beneath. Aysel is centuries old woman trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old prostitute. Everything she does is done for studied effect or part of a well thought out plan, but these habits are part of a cautious syndrome that makes any original interaction or intimacy almost impossible. As a result, she struggles with eruptions of nearly uncontrollable predatory passion followed by desperate remorse and eventually an overriding need for expiation. |
<span style="color:#000000;">'''History:''' | <span style="color:#000000;">'''History:''' | ||
Revision as of 13:54, 1 November 2014
Sobriquet: The Mother of Peace.
Appearance: Aysel is exotic even for a Turkish odalisque; had she been born in the modern world, she would almost certainly have been a world class super-model. She is just a touch short of five foot six inches tall. She is both heavier and more muscular than your average super-model, for she has the well developed athletic body of a professional dancer and probably weighs about one-hundred-thirty pounds. Aysel does not wall so much as drift from one place to another and her every gesture betrays a natural grace that has become a centuries deep muscle-memory. While she does on occasion wear modern western fashions for women, is is not a preference, but rather a gesture meant to please whichever westerner she has chosen to grace with her presence. More often than not, she wears the fashions of a seventeenth century Turkish harem lady, preferably silks in numerous layers accentuated by a wide variety of jewelry, and a sheer veil. Aysel has the face of an antique porcelain doll, which can portray a staggering number of emotions at a nearly preternatural speed without betraying a word, the most common being stunning boredom, smoky sensuality or predatory hunger. Her hair is a lustrous walnut brown with auburn highlights that naturally hangs to her hips, but when she has plans to go out, she either has it cut into the latest fashion for the purposes of style or simply crops it into a manageable pony-tail should she have need to move quickly. Her eyes are a pale hazel, the color of dark champagne, but when she becomes passionate they become almost green. Over the centuries, Aysel's complexion has steadily darkened to a milk chocolate swarthiness which lends itself to the mortal perception of her as an avid sun-bather, a misconception she subtly encourages.
Behavior: Whether encountered in person or through letters, she never uses telephones, Aysel portrays a studied modesty accentuated by skilled and subtle flirtation. Unless pressed to violence or taken by the Beast, all social interactions imply the sensual promise of seduction and the erotic fulfillment which follows. However, by nature, Aysel is not a flirtatious cougar on the prowl or an elder suffering from nymphomania, rather these masks hide the thoughtful woman of intelligence that hides beneath. Aysel is centuries old woman trapped in the body of a thirty-year-old prostitute. Everything she does is done for studied effect or part of a well thought out plan, but these habits are part of a cautious syndrome that makes any original interaction or intimacy almost impossible. As a result, she struggles with eruptions of nearly uncontrollable predatory passion followed by desperate remorse and eventually an overriding need for expiation.
History:
Recent Events:
- -- <<Aysel Avci's Statistics>>
