Post by lissy fairfax on Jun 29, 2011 5:43:09 GMT -5
Elisabeth Fairfax
[/b][/color][/size] A Mrs. Elisabeth Fairfax at the dear age of 22 has found herself upon the most curious of situations - entering into London's most tantalizing gossip. "[/i][/color][/font][/size][/ul][/blockquote]
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W R I T E R .
name: Dante
RP experience: 9 years
how did you find us?: Linkage on historical rps
age: internet safety old
gender: femme
P O R T R A I T .
eye color: Brown
hair color: dark blonde
height: 5,5
body type: slender through the waist but with wide hips and chest
distinguishing features: broad flat nose and wide set mouth
fashion style:
M A N N E R S .
profession: Note a profession but defacto owner/landlady of her husbands properties and estates.
adoration for:
distaste for:
dreams:
fears:
secrets:
main:
P A S T .
family:
main:
E T C .
play-by: Clemence Poesy
password: Evening Solace
rp sample:
The room was one of the quiet dark cloistered spaces, it was the sort of place one would imagine dark deeds too place in. A ridiculous notion that was better placed in a more fanciful brain than Isabel’s, or rather the sort of mind that she endeavoured to cultivate in herself as much as possible to the exclusion of all other sensibilities. The dark wood, the air of malice, and Lord Spencer Beaumont in the centre of it perched like a great dark bird in the centre. From somewhere in the deep silence of the room a clock ticked, the heavy set of the pendulum, a modern invention from the courts of Italy.
Isabel didn?t say a word as she moved into the room, the taffeta of her gown gave a gentle rustle as she moved through the closely crowded furniture. She gave a small sigh as she settled herself, the dark gown spread around her and her hands gently crossed at the wrists on her lap, facing the Lord Chancellor as he began to speak.
It was a clever and well formulated plan, one that held the promise of resolving their current problems. She thought of Vega in his high tower, the opposite of the fairy tale. No princess in the tower, instead it was a prince in the tower, or at least that was what he had been to her, for a while at least. The first and only man with whom she had shared a bed, and she had betrayed him, it was something that played on her mind quiet a lot. She fought hard to hide her emotion when Lord Beaumont said that Stephan would have to leave for sometime and despite herself she did not know what to do with that information. The part of her that was a royalist, the secret ambassador was pleased he would soon be far from court and the king but at the same time, she would miss him. Few knew it, but she had visited him several times in the prison, indeed it was only her elderly maid that had helped them in their subterfuge; that was a fact she would endeavour to keep from the chancellor, for while she and Vega were no longer lovers they were still friends, each had wronged the other, a fact which had left them both cathartic. After their first meeting in the prison and the blazing row that had followed they had both been hoarse but suitably vented for them both to have repented their actions.
When the chancellor began to pace in the small space, Isabel countered his actions in herself by staying as still as possible, a defence mechanism for her own ill ease. She pursed her lips as though thinking through the idea in her head. ?Indeed Chancellor, I think that will work well but I worry that the Queen will not want one of her favourites so far from court, is there a chance he can be secreted in the court, under a new name and a change to his appearance? she said her tone measured and her vivid blue eyes fixed on him intently.
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