New Character: Eleanor Wickham

[Qisma]

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem?:
Certainly.

How did you hear about Requiem?
Friends.

What will your character’s name be?
Eleanor Wickham

Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:
This woman’s spritely, sharp features appear washed out with the rest of her, color dulled by what could be no more than two and a half decades of exposure to the diseases and city smog from which she hails. She is of average stature and appears moderately athletic, clearly of the working class. Her mousy brown hair falls in loose waves some short distance beyond her shoulders, often styled half up and with a half-hearted fringe that partially covers bold eyebrows and ears slightly too large for the rest of her face. There is muted bravado in the stare of her blue gray eyes and more in the certainty of her step.

Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:
She’s a reporter, sent into the proverbial trenches to try to get word out beyond the quarantine zone of what’s becoming of the struggling frontier.

Please provide a few short paragraphs with pertinent details or notable qualities of your character’s history. This does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret:
Born and raised in Redholme City as the daughter of a playwright and an actress, Eleanor developed a deep appreciation for the written and embodied word as a child. Although her family was one of the eclectic sorts, they were handsome and gifted enough in their work to eventually be welcome in some of the Prelacy estates upon the hills, if only to entertain those of better breeding during lavish parties while the rest of the city choked on the smog of the overworked factories. Uniquely aware of what indulgences High Society allowed for the most highly esteemed citizens of the Republic of Decus, Eleanor was charmed by their world and their persons. The care Eleanor and her family had and took for those families they served on the hills was unrequited. They were merely the entertainment, and they were often used as such.

As the years passed, Eleanor even began to serve the most elite of her employers by writing on their behalf to the Society Pages of the Republic Sentinel to keep up their public image among all those who envied and adored them. There was undoubtedly a ceiling to Eleanor’s work from the start. She was always going to be the entertainment, the help, the reporter to sit and smile for. Worst of all, she made the mistake of sleeping with a member of the Prelacy whose family she worked for. He told her he loved her, and she thought it could somehow work out because of it. She told herself that his courting of other members of Prelacy was all the unwanted necessity that he insisted it was.

Eleanor’s ill-suited love wrote her and himself quarantine visas. They would assume new names, and they would be free to live and to love as they wanted to, he had told her. She couldn’t resist. Of course, they couldn’t travel together, he’d warned her, but he’d join her within the week. She fled to the quarantine zone as she’d been instructed, but the man never came, and news of his courting a woman of the Prelacy followed some time after. In the wake of the betrayal, Eleanor devoted herself to outing truth and to recommitting herself to her career as a writer, though this time not just for the Society Pages.

Please write a few short paragraphs of an in-character response to the following scenario:

The train yards were hot with an excess of both steam and bodies. Eleanor fanned herself where she stood, face coated with a thin sheen of sweat as she waited her turn to address the officiant. It’d been a miserable few days in Redholme City, but when there had seemed no way out, a window had been opened for her. The quarantine visa felt weightless in her pocket then, but there was a heaviness in her belly. He hadn’t yet arrived, and to cross the threshold without him felt one of the most frightening things she might ever do. She stepped forward in shoes polished a week prior. They’d been scuffed by a working man’s shoes earlier that day. She wondered if she might ever have properly polished shoes again, but then she didn’t care. She just cared that he’d be coming in less than a week.

Seven. She’d count to seven, and then he’d be there with her. Seven days. Anyone can count to seven, she had assured herself. It wasn’t so difficult. Seven sleeps, seven days, perhaps less than seven if she was lucky. He’d hold her then, and everything would be okay on that eighth day. The others around her spoke of the endless perils of the First Province. They spoke of monsters and ruin, of certain death, and Eleanor heard them only beyond the desperate hope for the missing man’s promise. Seven days, and then he’d be with her. The afflicted, those who stood in line ahead of her worried among themselves. It was truest of horrors they faced, but Eleanor couldn’t help but fear a future without the man more. Just seven days, and then whatever monsters had to be faced, they could face together. She’d be brave then for him, for her, and for them.

Blotting her wet face with a handkerchief, Eleanor tidied her hair as well as she could and stowed the damp cloth. She retrieved the quarantine visa from her pocket, offering it out for officiant to look over. It was written for one Eleanor Wickham on behalf of the Cicero family.

[Coty]

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...

Approved!

Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Welcome to Requiem!