Character Name:
Princess Erin Kilgour

Canon/Original:
Canon

Gender:
Female

Age:
21

Family:
King Aelfric Kilgour (deceased)
Queen Niamh Kilgour (deceased)
King Aedan Kilgour I (30)
Lady Cliona Caethwyn (26)
Prince Fergus Kilgour (24)

Spirit::N/A

Occupation:Princess

Place of Habitation:Thiasa Keep

Physical Description (five sentence minimum):
Erin, like her sister, is tall for a woman. She stands at a quite respectable height of 5'7" and she makes the most of it with her erect carriage. Her eyes are a light blue which she inherited from her mother, and it is the only thing she was gifted from her mother's side of the family. Her hair like her brothers is a dark brown, and falls in waves to about mid-back when loose. Unlike her sister, Erin's body is far from angular. Her body is rounded in all the right places, and she is well aware of the heads she turns when she passes by. Erin is an avid horsewoman, and adores the out of doors, so her usually pale skin has a faint golden hue in the summertime, but that usually fades by the late fall.

Personality (eight sentence minimum):
Despite her love of the out of doors, Erin is by no means a tom-boy. Her demeanor is usually quiet, and incredibly calm. She possesses a placid air, that belies the fierce spirit she possesses. She is not necessarily rebellious, but she definitely dislikes doing anything for anyone else's benefit.

Shrewd and calculating, she tends to cover up her many machinations with honeyed words. Yes, I said machinations. Erin is a skilled courtier and uses every bit of the gossip and news of the court that comes to her ears to her advantage. She can be warm to the people she cares about most but even that is, in it's own way, a facade. As that warmth is more for the fact that they are fufilling a need of hers at the time, and not simply because they are there. At the heart of it all Erin is out for Erin and that is all. There is nothing and no-one she loves more then herself, and nothing will come between her and her goals. Nothing. Not Family, not friends, and certainly not love.

History (ten sentence minimum):
Erin was eight when the barbarian wars were brought to an end and the era of peace began. She barely recalls the years of war, although she has listened to many of the stories as told by her father and brother. Despite the fact that the rest of the country still dealt with unrest, Erin's life was fairly idyllic. She was dotted on by her father, who favored her over her sister Cliona. He often said Cliona was far too much like their mother, and it was no secret that the King and the Queen did not mesh well.

She learned the maidenly arts as she was supposed to. She can plan a menu; she knows when to have the rushes on the floor changed. She is quite adept at dancing, embroidery and music as well. She is an avid horsewoman, and loves to join the hunt whenever possible and has been known, when time permits, to train her own falcons. Time, however has not permitted much until recently. The downside of her father's devotion was his reluctance to do without her. It is for that reason,and her brother's relative lack of care, that she is still unmarried at 21. Getting quite long in the tooth, Erin is antsy to find herself a husband before she looses the enticement of her nubile body. An enticement she is quite willing to use if it will grant her the power she so craves.

Plot Potential:
I've discussed the plot potential with the Admins. I don't want to put too much here as it would give away possible story lines, but suffice it to say Erin enjoys power, and will do much, and quite possibly anything to obtain it.

SAMPLE RP (from any site, ten sentence minimum):
Her writing had been going well... for once, and to celebrate Lady Eavan Amherst had decided to treat herself to an afternoon off. This was rare for her, as her duties to her lands, her family and of course her son took up much of her time, and what little she had left she tended to devote to her art. The day was bright, and not for the first time did she envy her sisters talent with painting. She would love to be able to capture the colors and the bustle of the city, if only for a moment.


She had left William with her sister, and with Meg in tow she headed out to do some shopping. Not that she had much idea of what she was looking for... no, today she would let the wind guide her and see where she ended up at the end of the day. Sometimes it was best to let go, and see what God would bring, for good or ill it was always an experience. Today she had simply let Meg braid her hair, weaving ribbons in it as if she were still a girl, instead of a young widow just recently out of mourning. Perhaps that was the reason for her lightened spirits. She finally was allowed to return to the world, to wear bright colors and dance and smile, or at least it was now appropriate for her to do so.


Eavan smoothed down the fabric of her white overdress, which set off the deep cerulean blue of the under gown she wore. It was a color, that beyond anything else set off the bright fiery hair that crowned her head. She walked with a grace and confidence that had always turned heads, much to her sisters dismay. Poor Maire had not yet come into herself, and it worried Eavan. She loved her sister for all the girl could be remarkably acidic. There seemed to be a bitterness within her that Eavan just could not understand.


Meg stopped distracted by a bright piece of fabric in a window, the girl was always looking at clothing, but then that was to be expected of the niece of the best modiste in town. Considering what Meg was capable of creating if given the opportunity Eavan was more than happy to allow her to look. She stopped and waited as her maid gazed at the window speculatively.


As she waited she took in the people around her on the street. People watching was one of the first skills of any writer. You could not describe what you did not know, at least not with any modicum of wit or realism. She listened idly to the conversations of the people passing around her, taking in the way they walked, the accents they talked with, and the rhythm of their speech. Ashton was as ever a colorful place, and mayhap that was why her eyes were drawn to the dark crow in the midst of the crowd. The cut of his clothing, though richly done, marked him as foreign to Glennon. He carried himself as though he was the most important person around, and perhaps he was.


She watched him wander down the street with a smile, that lit up her dark green eyes, as it always did. The one thing that could be said about her was that she did everything with a passion and joy that few could emulate. The man intrigued her, for it looked as though he rarely smiled, and she wondered how it would change the look of him when he did. She had a passing fancy to see it happen just so she would know.


What's the name of the Creator God the Ekaini worship?:
((SH it's a secret!))

Excellent. Can't wait. Politics! Hi, sis.