- Name: Moira Driscol
Nickname: Little bird (for her brother only, and anyone else will get stuck in the eye with a quill)
Age: 25
Social Class: Artisan
Occupation: Poet
APPEARANCE
Moira is a very plain girl, decidedly Scottish in lineage. As such, she has the wild red curls of her kin. She does not try and tame her mane, opting instead to let it wind and tangle about her shoulders. Her skin looks as though it has never seen the light of day -- and well it may have not, with the time she spends pent up with her poetry. Across her nose is a smattering of freckles, which are often obscured by ink blots that somehow end up all across her arms and face. Her eyes are golden, slightly too big for her face, and turned up at the outer corners. Her lower lip is thinner than her upper, so it looks like she is constantly sucking it into her mouth.
PERSONALITY
Moira is by no stretch of the imagination a demure lady. Her parents did try and teach her the mannerisms of the fairer sex, but she never really understood why she had to abide by those rules. Her brother got to go out and play in the mud, but she was stuck at home embroidering and sewing. Oh, how her parents toiled away to make her like the other little girls, and sometimes Moira almost, just almost fell in line. But even on her best behaved days there was that spark in her bright, yellow eyes that signaled trouble.
That hold true today as well. As an adult, Moira has found her place society, using her occupation as a poet to channel out the passion she feels pulsing inside her. It makes it easier to behave like a lady. However, there are always those days when it just becomes too much and she shouts and rages, acting more like a man than a woman.
As one would imagine, Moira does not have many friends. Her occasionally abrasive nature strange, masculine tendencies tend to alienate most of her peers, and scare off most men. But this is fine with her. Moira is a rather solitary creature, preferring the company of a few good friends over that of many.
ABILITIES
As stated before, Moira is a poet. While she is not, by any stretch of the imagination, the best poet, she is a fair one. In her eye, her verse always falls below her expectations, and is always undergoing some sort of revamp. Event he verses she sells she is not satisfied with, and often prices them far below their actual worth.
But, for all her creative prowess, she is no house keeper. Moira's home is often littered with broken quills, empty ink bottles, and crumpled sheets of parchment. Her clothes and her person are constantly stained with various colors of ink, and even her hair ends up smudged some times.
Moira is also fairly... uneasy with people. Because they don't typically know what to make of her, she doesn't know what to make of them. They confuse Moira on most days, and frighten her on the days she feels off. This makes for awkward conversation when she's trying to sell her most recent verse or out in the town. When things get too awkward, Moira has a tendency to lash out, creating more divide between her and those around her.
HOBBIES
Mostly poetry. Moira has been known to scribble down a line or two at a moments notice, and for that reason often has a quill tucked behind her ear, a little of ink tied about her waist, and a slip of parchment in her hands. More often than not she's tried to settle her tabs with her verse to no avail.
Other than that Moira very much enjoys in a tavern or some such place, just watching everyone go about their business. It's a good way for her to gain inspiration for her next poem.
