Name:
Robin of Arden
Player: Leslie Lightfoot
Lineage: Daughter of Ysabeau of Amber, Ward of Julian of Amber / Father unknown
Physical Description:
Tall and active, Robin is a woman in motion. 5'8" of dynamic energy and jubilant strength, matched only by the intuition and lightning judgment in her sparkling green eyes.
Short, feathered, pale blonde hair frames a bird-like face with high cheekbones, a golden tan and a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. Perhaps a little strong for beautiful, perhaps a little soft for handsome, nevertheless Robin's features are perfect for who and what she is.
The light hair, the tanned face, the pale lips speak of a woman who spends her life outdoors, but there is no drying or aging to her lush youthful complexion.
Robin's build is curvaceous and full, her golden tan and light freckles continuing over her entire body. Her shape is such that she will never be lean, but will always be... comfortably huggable. Her smaller legs and arms belie her actual height, making her appear shorter and more child-like than she truly is.
Mannerisms:
Player: Leslie Lightfoot
Lineage: Daughter of Ysabeau of Amber, Ward of Julian of Amber / Father unknown
Physical Description:
Tall and active, Robin is a woman in motion. 5'8" of dynamic energy and jubilant strength, matched only by the intuition and lightning judgment in her sparkling green eyes.
Short, feathered, pale blonde hair frames a bird-like face with high cheekbones, a golden tan and a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. Perhaps a little strong for beautiful, perhaps a little soft for handsome, nevertheless Robin's features are perfect for who and what she is.
The light hair, the tanned face, the pale lips speak of a woman who spends her life outdoors, but there is no drying or aging to her lush youthful complexion.
Robin's build is curvaceous and full, her golden tan and light freckles continuing over her entire body. Her shape is such that she will never be lean, but will always be... comfortably huggable. Her smaller legs and arms belie her actual height, making her appear shorter and more child-like than she truly is.
Mannerisms:
The less-kind might refer to Robin as 'flighty' -- some part of the
young woman is always in motion. When thinking, fingers or feet
tap. When in anticipation, her hands flutters. When angry,
fists strike thighs or... other people.
Robin lives her life to its fullest and it shows in all her expressions and mannerisms. She laughs heartily, storms mightily, crows and chirps, digs in and gets her hands dirty. She skips, she runs, she jumps, hops, sings, dances, turns cartwheels and generally lets herself play with the life that is hers.
Furthermore, Robin is willing to share that exuberance with any who are with her. Though beware, she's also been known to be just the wee-ist littlest bit sarcastic.
Attire:
Robin lives her life to its fullest and it shows in all her expressions and mannerisms. She laughs heartily, storms mightily, crows and chirps, digs in and gets her hands dirty. She skips, she runs, she jumps, hops, sings, dances, turns cartwheels and generally lets herself play with the life that is hers.
Furthermore, Robin is willing to share that exuberance with any who are with her. Though beware, she's also been known to be just the wee-ist littlest bit sarcastic.
Attire:
Robin favors the working clothes of a Ranger of Arden, pine green
long-sleeved shirts, brown leather jerkin, pine green trousers tucked
into efficient
brown leather boots. Cloaks are optional, depending strictly on
the
weather and hats or scarves are almost always to be avoided.
Occasionally Robin *thinks* about dresses, but even then practicality overrides fashion sense. A good place to hide a knife makes a good dress,something that binds her arms or legs is a bad dress.
Make-up and jewelry have never really been an option for the Ranger and she feels that it might be a little late to start now.
Personal Symbol: (Field Badge) Vert, an orle Or
Occasionally Robin *thinks* about dresses, but even then practicality overrides fashion sense. A good place to hide a knife makes a good dress,something that binds her arms or legs is a bad dress.
Make-up and jewelry have never really been an option for the Ranger and she feels that it might be a little late to start now.
Personal Symbol: (Field Badge) Vert, an orle Or
Colors:
Greens (Emerald, Kelly, Pine) and Browns (Umber, Fawn, Bark)
Psychological
Description:
To say that Robin is volatile is an understatement. She loves jumping -- to conclusions, 'right in', 'from the frying pan into the fire', you name it. Robin is a jumper. She is insightful enough that *just* often enough she jumps in the right direction to still be alive. She is impulsive enough that she couldn't smiddle jumping even if she wanted to.
But she doesn't want to. For Robin there is always more coming. More life, more fun, more everything to be had, experienced and enjoyed. While life as a Ranger has somewhat limited Robin's creative outlets, she loves to play music on her ocarina or generating new ways to solve old problems. Robin can become so involved in a (or several) projects or a new song that she can become quite frenetic at times.
Her impulsiveness and general lack of focus has led to a life forever lived on the edge of disaster. But Robin knows that she's tough enough to handle it. After all, she always has before. And come through laughing.
At Character Takeover:
To say that Robin is volatile is an understatement. She loves jumping -- to conclusions, 'right in', 'from the frying pan into the fire', you name it. Robin is a jumper. She is insightful enough that *just* often enough she jumps in the right direction to still be alive. She is impulsive enough that she couldn't smiddle jumping even if she wanted to.
But she doesn't want to. For Robin there is always more coming. More life, more fun, more everything to be had, experienced and enjoyed. While life as a Ranger has somewhat limited Robin's creative outlets, she loves to play music on her ocarina or generating new ways to solve old problems. Robin can become so involved in a (or several) projects or a new song that she can become quite frenetic at times.
Her impulsiveness and general lack of focus has led to a life forever lived on the edge of disaster. But Robin knows that she's tough enough to handle it. After all, she always has before. And come through laughing.
At Character Takeover:
Robin has come to an odd place in her life, Amber. Just a few
weeks earlier, her father -- the idol of her life -- entrusted her with
an
important mission, to scout a few days down the Black Road and report
back to him. Robin jumped at the chance to prove herself and was
off. And then
things went just *wrong.* Again.
After meeting a shadow(?) of herself, strange manifestations(?) of her Machiavellian family and becoming involved in some fever-like surreal montage of a dream-quest, Robin awoke to find herself once more in Arden.
Or did she?
At first she thought she was home, but afterward Robin began feeling like she was missing something. And she thought that what she was missing was her Home. Robin was under the growing suspicion that she might not have come Home after all. That Arden, with its fading and faltering shadowpaths, its new, militarized and undertrained rangers... an Arden without her father's shining presence -- this was NOT her Home.
And Amber? Even worse. A 'shattered Pattern', hunger stalking the streets, a horde of strangers running through a ruined palace, a crippled Prince, none of the towering god-like beings she remembered, and malleable to shadow manipulation?!? -- this was NOT her Realm.
Robin wasn't sure whether she was still stuck on the Black Road, having traded the flames, hallucinatory images and eternal stairwell for the ongoing crushing despair of a mockery of her home. (Which if that was the case, she could only play the hand your dealt, so she felt that she might as well carry on.)
*Or* -- she was growing more and more convinced -- she had wandered into a close shadow of Amber. One painted by the Black Road, possibly as a trap for herself. The dangers of the Black Road could kill, so Robin was watching her step and playing nice with what she was growing to believe were shadow incarnations created by her own mind of people who never existed.
But as time went by, she found it less and less easy to care for those... things. And she was finding herself less and less able to keep up the farce of socializing with hallucinations. Let shadow Brita take care of shadow Arden, it made no difference to Robin.
Her job was to get *out* of there and get back Home. Home to where her father was waiting for his report. Home to where the devil creatures of the traitor Princes were plaguing her forest. Home to where *her* Rangers stood proud and free as the Warders of Arden.
Thus Robin began spending more and more of her time investigating the shadow ways around Amber castle, looking for a way out of the trap. Trying to figure how she became stuck here.
*But* she'd only been using the Pattern lightly -- if at all. Even though she knew that shadow and the Black Road lie, she *knew* it, she couldn't keep the image out of her mind -- the memory of blood swelling over a green sward, flowing from *her* knife, to ignite a maze that should be familiar. The image of a crack, a fissure starting from *her* feet, spreading out to break the Pattern and cast Random into a chasm. (Of course, he did shoot her first, so it serves him right. But still....) So Robin became a little touchy about using a lot of Pattern.
Yep, Julian's little girl came home from the Black Road, well -- slightly delusional.
After meeting a shadow(?) of herself, strange manifestations(?) of her Machiavellian family and becoming involved in some fever-like surreal montage of a dream-quest, Robin awoke to find herself once more in Arden.
Or did she?
At first she thought she was home, but afterward Robin began feeling like she was missing something. And she thought that what she was missing was her Home. Robin was under the growing suspicion that she might not have come Home after all. That Arden, with its fading and faltering shadowpaths, its new, militarized and undertrained rangers... an Arden without her father's shining presence -- this was NOT her Home.
And Amber? Even worse. A 'shattered Pattern', hunger stalking the streets, a horde of strangers running through a ruined palace, a crippled Prince, none of the towering god-like beings she remembered, and malleable to shadow manipulation?!? -- this was NOT her Realm.
Robin wasn't sure whether she was still stuck on the Black Road, having traded the flames, hallucinatory images and eternal stairwell for the ongoing crushing despair of a mockery of her home. (Which if that was the case, she could only play the hand your dealt, so she felt that she might as well carry on.)
*Or* -- she was growing more and more convinced -- she had wandered into a close shadow of Amber. One painted by the Black Road, possibly as a trap for herself. The dangers of the Black Road could kill, so Robin was watching her step and playing nice with what she was growing to believe were shadow incarnations created by her own mind of people who never existed.
But as time went by, she found it less and less easy to care for those... things. And she was finding herself less and less able to keep up the farce of socializing with hallucinations. Let shadow Brita take care of shadow Arden, it made no difference to Robin.
Her job was to get *out* of there and get back Home. Home to where her father was waiting for his report. Home to where the devil creatures of the traitor Princes were plaguing her forest. Home to where *her* Rangers stood proud and free as the Warders of Arden.
Thus Robin began spending more and more of her time investigating the shadow ways around Amber castle, looking for a way out of the trap. Trying to figure how she became stuck here.
*But* she'd only been using the Pattern lightly -- if at all. Even though she knew that shadow and the Black Road lie, she *knew* it, she couldn't keep the image out of her mind -- the memory of blood swelling over a green sward, flowing from *her* knife, to ignite a maze that should be familiar. The image of a crack, a fissure starting from *her* feet, spreading out to break the Pattern and cast Random into a chasm. (Of course, he did shoot her first, so it serves him right. But still....) So Robin became a little touchy about using a lot of Pattern.
Yep, Julian's little girl came home from the Black Road, well -- slightly delusional.
