Post by Felina on Aug 15, 2007 16:17:43 GMT -5
Status Being Applied For:
The 'ability' to 'feel' the stares of other people. Most are just like an itch she can't really quite reach, but others are rather distinctive and recognisable, depending on how often she's come into contact with a particular person. The more often, the more she can distinguish it.
Reason for Wanting this Status:
It's just the way I made her character, really. She's been like this for well over a year, now. It's a mental and emotional scar; the counterpart of those visible on her skin. In McCaffrey's world, such abilities are possible due to high empathy ratings, and I take this to definitely be an empathetic sort of 'ability'. It's mostly a feeling, really.
Sample Post, including this Status:
Felina's soft leather moccasins padded quietly across the stones, little evidence of her passage save for a nearly silent swish as she lifted each foot, and the sound of the legs of her breeches rubbing together with every step that she took. Occasionally, a smaller pebble would skitter softly across larger stones, invariably coming to rest in a gap. The early light of Rukbat filtered over the Hold, lengthening shadows and wakening the earliest risers. Felina was one of those, making her way to the small workshop where she worked under Master Environ.
There were others more silent than she. It always was so. Her woodcraft was barely passable, and herattempts to be silent were simple courtesy towards those who still slumbered, snoring softly. But sound was not the only way in which one could betray ones presence. “Toril, I can hear you behind me; you always walk that way,” she lied. Toril was not one of those that she had told about the way that she felt it when people looked at her. No, best let Toril think he needed to be quieter. After all; Felina had no love for the older boy, not after the way he had burned her, however inadvertently.
“Shardit, Fel, you're good! How in Faranth's name do you always manage that? No matter how quiet I am, you always hear me. You really should've considered hunting. You'd be good at it. You've ears better than a Harper!”
Felina shrugged, continuing towards the workshop. There was a pair of boots she had been working on; her best work so far, and she really would like to finish them before the next Gather. Perhaps they could even pick her up a few spare marks, though apprentice-made boots couldn't possibly sell for much. “I don't like death and killing, Toril, you know that full well.”
“Never understood why a Tanner would hold that view. You do know where leather comes from, right?” Toril asked condescendingly. “Naw, I'm joking. Sure you do. Hey, your arms...”
“Same as always,” Felina said curtly. Really, it had been Toril's fault, but it did get annoying at times, him trying to apologise for a mistake. No matter what he did, it couldn't be undone. “Perhaps, if I wear a coat, at the next Gather I could get some bly from another Hold to dance with me.” Another blatant lie, but it was not common knowledge that Felina didn't particularly like boys, or girls, either. Another thing that she would prefer was kept quiet.
“Perhaps,” Toril said doubtfully. Even in the dark, it would be hard to miss the scars on Felina's face, and those were impossible to cover up. No, she was just doomed to a life on her own. Too bad, he'd heard many say that she was nice enough if you got to know her, but with those horrendous scars, she was just not a one for marriage. It was too difficult to imagine what she'd look like without them.
“Well, bye, Toril,” she said as she reached the workshop, a silent sigh of relief evident only in the way that her shoulders collapsed to a more normal position. As she turned to enter, she could still feel the eyes of Toril on her, along with the eyes of two others in the road; one was Master Environ, and the other she couldn't quite recognise. What she wouldn't give to know their thoughts. But that, unfortunately, was left to Riders with their dragons. Not for simple Tanners such as herself.
The 'ability' to 'feel' the stares of other people. Most are just like an itch she can't really quite reach, but others are rather distinctive and recognisable, depending on how often she's come into contact with a particular person. The more often, the more she can distinguish it.
Reason for Wanting this Status:
It's just the way I made her character, really. She's been like this for well over a year, now. It's a mental and emotional scar; the counterpart of those visible on her skin. In McCaffrey's world, such abilities are possible due to high empathy ratings, and I take this to definitely be an empathetic sort of 'ability'. It's mostly a feeling, really.
Sample Post, including this Status:
Felina's soft leather moccasins padded quietly across the stones, little evidence of her passage save for a nearly silent swish as she lifted each foot, and the sound of the legs of her breeches rubbing together with every step that she took. Occasionally, a smaller pebble would skitter softly across larger stones, invariably coming to rest in a gap. The early light of Rukbat filtered over the Hold, lengthening shadows and wakening the earliest risers. Felina was one of those, making her way to the small workshop where she worked under Master Environ.
There were others more silent than she. It always was so. Her woodcraft was barely passable, and herattempts to be silent were simple courtesy towards those who still slumbered, snoring softly. But sound was not the only way in which one could betray ones presence. “Toril, I can hear you behind me; you always walk that way,” she lied. Toril was not one of those that she had told about the way that she felt it when people looked at her. No, best let Toril think he needed to be quieter. After all; Felina had no love for the older boy, not after the way he had burned her, however inadvertently.
“Shardit, Fel, you're good! How in Faranth's name do you always manage that? No matter how quiet I am, you always hear me. You really should've considered hunting. You'd be good at it. You've ears better than a Harper!”
Felina shrugged, continuing towards the workshop. There was a pair of boots she had been working on; her best work so far, and she really would like to finish them before the next Gather. Perhaps they could even pick her up a few spare marks, though apprentice-made boots couldn't possibly sell for much. “I don't like death and killing, Toril, you know that full well.”
“Never understood why a Tanner would hold that view. You do know where leather comes from, right?” Toril asked condescendingly. “Naw, I'm joking. Sure you do. Hey, your arms...”
“Same as always,” Felina said curtly. Really, it had been Toril's fault, but it did get annoying at times, him trying to apologise for a mistake. No matter what he did, it couldn't be undone. “Perhaps, if I wear a coat, at the next Gather I could get some bly from another Hold to dance with me.” Another blatant lie, but it was not common knowledge that Felina didn't particularly like boys, or girls, either. Another thing that she would prefer was kept quiet.
“Perhaps,” Toril said doubtfully. Even in the dark, it would be hard to miss the scars on Felina's face, and those were impossible to cover up. No, she was just doomed to a life on her own. Too bad, he'd heard many say that she was nice enough if you got to know her, but with those horrendous scars, she was just not a one for marriage. It was too difficult to imagine what she'd look like without them.
“Well, bye, Toril,” she said as she reached the workshop, a silent sigh of relief evident only in the way that her shoulders collapsed to a more normal position. As she turned to enter, she could still feel the eyes of Toril on her, along with the eyes of two others in the road; one was Master Environ, and the other she couldn't quite recognise. What she wouldn't give to know their thoughts. But that, unfortunately, was left to Riders with their dragons. Not for simple Tanners such as herself.