Post by La Sorelli on Jan 22, 2008 23:46:32 GMT -5
Name: Céline Isabelle Sorelli
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 123 lbs
Appearance: Céline is pretty enough to attract many an interested glance from passing noblemen. She is, in terms of color, a dark, shining gold, from the tip of her head to her smallest toe. The gold shimmers through her every pore, illuminating her features with an internal glow that is visible and yet impossible to see. Nevertheless, it is a distinctive part of her that simply is.
Her hair is a deep yellow, an auburn-like blonde sheen that is reminiscent of dulled gold. It waves and twists becomingly, halting just above mid-back. She commonly twists it up when unconcerned with her appearance, for it falls easily into many styles. Cream-colored skin, with a dusting of light freckles, compliments her finest feature: her eyes. Céline's eyes are considered the most beautiful in all of France by many, and rightly so. They are almond-shaped, a deep jade green flecked with gold, very expressive, and seemingly fathoms deep. It is the easiest feat in the world to become lost in speech and mind when she fixes one with her intense gaze. Delicate eyebrows puntuate her every thought, and a pert nose and rosebud lips complete her facial ensemble.
A lifetime of dancing has sculpted her body to be slim and strong, with an almost uncanny grace that is natural to her. Her limbs fold and twist with an elegance even the most grand of duchesses could never accomplish, to an inner rhythm that cannot be recreated. Any lack of outer beauty is instantly forgotten when Sorelli begins to dance, and her more normal movements echo the flow of the dance.
All in all, she is a difficult person to etch into words: not quite beautiful in the conventional sense, but in an artistic view: simply gorgeous.
Personality: It is with almost a surreal quality that Sorelli moves through life, her dancing the only truly solid part of her existence. That, and Philippe.
She is optimistic but not extremely, agreeable in most cases, and partially vain. She enjoys the materialistic side of life, and enjoys being the center of attention. Raised highly religious, Sorelli also holds a belief in the supernatural, and therefore is very likely to believe in an Opera Ghost if there ever were one. She is not particularly bright, but has her beliefs, and sticks with them firmly. Loyalty and love are very important parts of her life, if punctured slightly by propriety. Perhaps it is possible to delve deep into her subconcious, but Céline is not so very deep, and the majority of her can be scraped from the top two inches of her being.
Wealth Status: Middle-class
Occupation: Prima Ballerina de l'Opera Garnier
Personal Posessions: Her most sentimental are the trinkets and engravings of her mother's, and a wooden ring she wears on the fourth finger of her left hand. And, of course, anything sentimental that Philippe has given her.
Pets: An old tom that she feeds and strokes, but does not truly own. Philippe has been talking of buying her a proper pet sometime.
Family: Deceased: Father and mother, elder brother
Living: A younger sister and brother
History: Born to a fairly well-off family in Nice, France, her mother a renowned prima ballerina and father a banker, Céline was raised to dance. She began as soon as she could walk steadily, quickly learning determination and the ability to pick information up quickly. When Sorelli was thirteen, her mother withstood a severe injury to her knee and could dance no longer.
The family moved to Paris, where Céline took up with le Palais Garnier. Not much is to be said about the years after this, except that she was promoted to prima at age 23. Two years later, Philippe de Chagny took a liking to her, and began to call on her privately. They eventually developed a relationship, and although it was never made public, it is common knowledge that le comte is on friendly terms with the prima ballerina.
What with he as her personal patron and her own salary, Céline finds herself cared for very well, and has no need of anything that she can think of. She does not hope for marriage, for she knows it would be a disaster and would never marry anyone except Philippe. No, she is quite content in her life.
Participate in the story of the Phantom? Vaguely.
Sample Post: As all of my posts have been lost at the caving in of AG2, I shall present my latest post, one written in the persona of Christine Daaé and not at all in context. It is, of course, certainly not my best. Forgive me, I have not time to compose one for Sorelli.
As much as she loved her husband, she loathed his reaction to her statement. Was he displeased with her profession, or was he simply attempting to keep the peace between his family and her? The relief in his expression countered her dismay, and Christine continued to study him even as he turned away. An uncharacteristic bitter taste was creeping into her mouth: would she be forced to change her life for her husband’s relatives to even consider looking at her with anything other than distaste? Was nothing she loved respectable enough for the family de Chagny? Was she going to be the cause of a rift between Raoul and his family? Could she abandon the theatre to salvage that relationship? Eyes dark with emotion, she stared quickly down at the moving ground, musing…would she even try to redeem herself in her in-laws’ eyes at the expense of her happiness?
Her eyes snapped to his the instant the word “title” left his tongue. Lips parted slightly, a thousand thoughts flitted across her visage. A normal life!--no servants or media, exploiting every movement she made or caring for her when she could do so perfectly well herself; no titled men and women sneering at her behind their thin-lipped smiles. She could do whatever she wanted, and no one would care. To be Christine, with no responsibility attached….
As many joyous thoughts crossed her mind, she noticed that Raoul’s face seemed to fall minutely with every passing moment. Her happiness, it appeared, would come at the price of his security. He had never known a life without servants and nobles. Christine was no even sure if she would boil water, let alone cook and clean for himself. In the little house by the sea, he had tagged along as she washed clothes and dishes and tried to create meals out of the little food available. However, she had been obliged to teach him the skills when he requested, and Raoul had always asked <I>why</I>, exactly, she had to do these chores that he had servants to do for him. She very much doubted that he would adapt quickly to the lifestyle she was accustomed to.
To hide these thoughts, she brushed a hand over he eyes, gazing into the horizon while choosing words carefully in her mind. “I…” she finally began, almost with difficulty. “I’ll tell you the truth, Raoul:” here she hesitated, gathering courage before plowing onward, “it would be a--a relief for me.” Christine chanced a glance at him, but could not decipher his expression. “I was raised poor, unprivileged. Even after these years, I can’t say I’m an accomplished countess, or even that I prefer being wealthy. My life was centered around taking care of myself….I’m not used to being cared for, instead.” She squeezed his hand apologetically, continuing quickly, “But I could never ask you to do that for me, Raoul.”
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 123 lbs
Appearance: Céline is pretty enough to attract many an interested glance from passing noblemen. She is, in terms of color, a dark, shining gold, from the tip of her head to her smallest toe. The gold shimmers through her every pore, illuminating her features with an internal glow that is visible and yet impossible to see. Nevertheless, it is a distinctive part of her that simply is.
Her hair is a deep yellow, an auburn-like blonde sheen that is reminiscent of dulled gold. It waves and twists becomingly, halting just above mid-back. She commonly twists it up when unconcerned with her appearance, for it falls easily into many styles. Cream-colored skin, with a dusting of light freckles, compliments her finest feature: her eyes. Céline's eyes are considered the most beautiful in all of France by many, and rightly so. They are almond-shaped, a deep jade green flecked with gold, very expressive, and seemingly fathoms deep. It is the easiest feat in the world to become lost in speech and mind when she fixes one with her intense gaze. Delicate eyebrows puntuate her every thought, and a pert nose and rosebud lips complete her facial ensemble.
A lifetime of dancing has sculpted her body to be slim and strong, with an almost uncanny grace that is natural to her. Her limbs fold and twist with an elegance even the most grand of duchesses could never accomplish, to an inner rhythm that cannot be recreated. Any lack of outer beauty is instantly forgotten when Sorelli begins to dance, and her more normal movements echo the flow of the dance.
All in all, she is a difficult person to etch into words: not quite beautiful in the conventional sense, but in an artistic view: simply gorgeous.
Personality: It is with almost a surreal quality that Sorelli moves through life, her dancing the only truly solid part of her existence. That, and Philippe.
She is optimistic but not extremely, agreeable in most cases, and partially vain. She enjoys the materialistic side of life, and enjoys being the center of attention. Raised highly religious, Sorelli also holds a belief in the supernatural, and therefore is very likely to believe in an Opera Ghost if there ever were one. She is not particularly bright, but has her beliefs, and sticks with them firmly. Loyalty and love are very important parts of her life, if punctured slightly by propriety. Perhaps it is possible to delve deep into her subconcious, but Céline is not so very deep, and the majority of her can be scraped from the top two inches of her being.
Wealth Status: Middle-class
Occupation: Prima Ballerina de l'Opera Garnier
Personal Posessions: Her most sentimental are the trinkets and engravings of her mother's, and a wooden ring she wears on the fourth finger of her left hand. And, of course, anything sentimental that Philippe has given her.
Pets: An old tom that she feeds and strokes, but does not truly own. Philippe has been talking of buying her a proper pet sometime.
Family: Deceased: Father and mother, elder brother
Living: A younger sister and brother
History: Born to a fairly well-off family in Nice, France, her mother a renowned prima ballerina and father a banker, Céline was raised to dance. She began as soon as she could walk steadily, quickly learning determination and the ability to pick information up quickly. When Sorelli was thirteen, her mother withstood a severe injury to her knee and could dance no longer.
The family moved to Paris, where Céline took up with le Palais Garnier. Not much is to be said about the years after this, except that she was promoted to prima at age 23. Two years later, Philippe de Chagny took a liking to her, and began to call on her privately. They eventually developed a relationship, and although it was never made public, it is common knowledge that le comte is on friendly terms with the prima ballerina.
What with he as her personal patron and her own salary, Céline finds herself cared for very well, and has no need of anything that she can think of. She does not hope for marriage, for she knows it would be a disaster and would never marry anyone except Philippe. No, she is quite content in her life.
Participate in the story of the Phantom? Vaguely.
Sample Post: As all of my posts have been lost at the caving in of AG2, I shall present my latest post, one written in the persona of Christine Daaé and not at all in context. It is, of course, certainly not my best. Forgive me, I have not time to compose one for Sorelli.
As much as she loved her husband, she loathed his reaction to her statement. Was he displeased with her profession, or was he simply attempting to keep the peace between his family and her? The relief in his expression countered her dismay, and Christine continued to study him even as he turned away. An uncharacteristic bitter taste was creeping into her mouth: would she be forced to change her life for her husband’s relatives to even consider looking at her with anything other than distaste? Was nothing she loved respectable enough for the family de Chagny? Was she going to be the cause of a rift between Raoul and his family? Could she abandon the theatre to salvage that relationship? Eyes dark with emotion, she stared quickly down at the moving ground, musing…would she even try to redeem herself in her in-laws’ eyes at the expense of her happiness?
Her eyes snapped to his the instant the word “title” left his tongue. Lips parted slightly, a thousand thoughts flitted across her visage. A normal life!--no servants or media, exploiting every movement she made or caring for her when she could do so perfectly well herself; no titled men and women sneering at her behind their thin-lipped smiles. She could do whatever she wanted, and no one would care. To be Christine, with no responsibility attached….
As many joyous thoughts crossed her mind, she noticed that Raoul’s face seemed to fall minutely with every passing moment. Her happiness, it appeared, would come at the price of his security. He had never known a life without servants and nobles. Christine was no even sure if she would boil water, let alone cook and clean for himself. In the little house by the sea, he had tagged along as she washed clothes and dishes and tried to create meals out of the little food available. However, she had been obliged to teach him the skills when he requested, and Raoul had always asked <I>why</I>, exactly, she had to do these chores that he had servants to do for him. She very much doubted that he would adapt quickly to the lifestyle she was accustomed to.
To hide these thoughts, she brushed a hand over he eyes, gazing into the horizon while choosing words carefully in her mind. “I…” she finally began, almost with difficulty. “I’ll tell you the truth, Raoul:” here she hesitated, gathering courage before plowing onward, “it would be a--a relief for me.” Christine chanced a glance at him, but could not decipher his expression. “I was raised poor, unprivileged. Even after these years, I can’t say I’m an accomplished countess, or even that I prefer being wealthy. My life was centered around taking care of myself….I’m not used to being cared for, instead.” She squeezed his hand apologetically, continuing quickly, “But I could never ask you to do that for me, Raoul.”
