Name: Sophia Grange
Alias/Nicknames: Grandma Grange (family, customers), Cordyline Freesia (Ariaheim), Lavender Gyp (Ravenhim), Foxglove Sveta-Lilac (Kyrheim), Sophia (Caspia Grange, "Finn" Grange, various deceased individuals)
Birthdate: April 11, unknown (sometime in the early second century)
In explanation, she has lived long enough not to care, and with the disconcerted homelife of her early years, she herself truly isn't certain. She also doesn't care.
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance: About 5'5", 110lbs, Blue eyes, tan skin and sandy hair. Angular and slim cut.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]
Personality: She is seemingly random, genuinely apathetic about most things, and in short, a bitch.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Political Alignment: Howldon
Languages Spoken: Eldarin, Avarin, Esferin
Job/Class: Florist, herbalist, roamer. Matron of Grange Flowers (Kyrheim), Freesia Inks (Ariaheim) and Lavender Farms (Ravenheim).
Inventory: Sophia keeps a small stone cottage in the vicinity of the immortal tree. She roams and carries little beyond vials of plants and potions.
Talents: An astounding ability for silence and shock, as well as flexibility in bed, balance, and tuning to nature.
Skills: Sophia is well-versed in botany and horticulture, is a practiced herbalist, florist, herbal healer, and businesswoman, assuming the skill sets of each position.
Background/History:
Once upon a time, a little girl was born to a couple of Florists in what had recently become Howldon, an up and coming centre for commerce and capitalism in Kyrheim, nestled deep within the cradle of the Promethean Plains. She was named Sophia after her late grandmother and inherited her father’s surname, Grange. As a child she was apathetic, already questioning the great philosophers and preachers of various religions. At the age of eleven, she drove her father to great irritation with her “insensitive instigations” against his devotion to the Gods. In that “irritation” he struck the child down. She “fell” against the table and was “accidentally” slashed by a cooking knife through the shoulder. She learned quickly that not all individuals were meant for higher thinking, but at the same time began to foster an aversion to men for all things that her father failed to be.
One would think that with her blossoming aversion to her father, Sophia would cling to the warmth of her mother’s breast. She did not. Her mother was a withered and quiet woman, hurried and panicked, always rushing to attend her husband’s will. As Sophia knew her, she had no mind of her own and little spine. By the time Sophia was fourteen, her mother had run herself ragged and she could no longer keep up with her equally fatigued husband’s wants. At first Sophia tried to aid her mother, but she grew increasingly impatient with her father’s thankless existence. One cold evening in November, Sophia and her mother made several trips into the deep snow to bring wood in to dry and later throw on the fire. Her father complained of the cold from his cocoon of every single blanket in the ramshackle house. After one comment or another, Sophia threw down her current load, cursed out her father and ripped a blanket from his “aching bones.” While he struggled to unwrap himself, Sophia tossed food into a sack and ran from the building, never to return.
She wandered the streets for several weeks before settling into a hand-constructed hovel between two buildings in the “Services” district. It wasn’t long before someone stumbled upon her, but much to her own surprise they wished neither harm nor ill, but offered the homeless teenager a job. All she had to do was open her legs.
Caring little for the sanctity of virginity or sex, Sophia agreed. The stranger took her to a built up inn, got her a bowl of warm soup and settled her in a tiny little room with a mattress and dresser. Not even a half hour later, a drunken man stumbled through the room and laid down on her bed. Sophia did as she was told, and opened her legs.
Up until that time, Sophia had been a good student and a hard worker. She learned her lessons and studied well, so much so that her teachers first placed her in an advanced class, and then had her skip levels entirely. Her work ethic hadn’t changed at all, and soon she was the brothel’s most coveted employee. Instead of paying for time, customers paid per “session,” or crudely, a single ejaculation.
Surprisingly, despite the number of men she bedded, Sophia never once reported pregnancy. When questioned about it, she smiled meekly and produced a small bottle of crushed petals. She took it once every six days to suppress ovulation.
For the four years she worked at the brothel, Sophia raked in a heft amount for herself. But one day a customer walked in that she had not expected. He was just as tall as she remembered, but much more disheveled and skinny. His eyes were still blue and his nose was still crooked, but the fifty-some year-old man did not recognize her, and she bedded him all the same. When they were finished, she asked about his wife and he laughed, saying she died four years ago. When Sophia asked how, he laughed again.
“Suicide.”
“Why?”
“Because her bitch of a daughter took off.”
Sophia nodded grimly, as though the action was to be condemned. Instead, she offered the man a drink, to which she added a few pinches of ground leaf. Moments later, he fell to the floor as his heart seized. She stood over him, glaring, subsequently kicking him in his paternal parts. She called down to the floor of the inn, telling the owner her latest lay had died of a heart attack. She was just that good.
During her term of employment, Sophia managed to put away a great deal of money, just enough so that when love came calling, she was perfectly content to close her legs for business and go.
Had a child with "Finn." The child grew sick, she gave it the wrong medicine. It died.
She had a second child and "Finn" tried to take her home to his place. He tried to drug her with Passiflora. It poisoned her and she grew deathly ill. "Finn" went on a quest for the infamous Phoenix Flower and succeeded. He gave the Phoenix Flower to Sophia, and she became cured of the mortal condition.
She left him for the betrayal, ignoring his good intentions, taking the child with her. She reopened her mother's flower shop and started a business that took off with flare. Her child eventually inherited the store and she crossed realms to Ariaheim, where she founded a textile dye and ink business.
After several years, she jumped again to Ravenheim where she founded a farm for creatures that required food. Once again she left and returned home to Kyrheim, by which time she had several grandchildren, one of which was full grown.
She continued to roam, jumping realms every few years and seeing little of her growing brood.
In the present day she has many connections and knows many people. She is an addict of Glade, a very potent drug of her own creation. She is most fond of her great-something granddaughter Caspia, primarily due to her gift for herbal remedies, most like herself.
She remains one of the few aware of the Sage society, and currently resides at the original store in Onyx, Howldon, acting as an in-house herbal healer and drug dealer.
Past Storylines:
- Title:
- Date:
- Location:
- Participants:
Merit Purchases:
Locations:
-
-
Titles:
-
-
Magick:
- Realm, Natural, Growth (3500)
-
Items:
-
-
Last edited by Foxglove on Tue Sep 11, 2012 12:40 am; edited 2 times in total
