Username : Scaramouche Fandango
Time Zone : EST
Journal Type : [I-J]
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Character Info
Name : Eglantine Sangreal
Age : 19
Gender : Female
Appearance :
- Fancy Dress Sang
-Everyday SangFive feet, seven inches tall, with shoulder-length brunette hair with a slight bounce to it, light skin that's almost always tanned to a pretty copper, bright blue eyes, and well-defined muscles and callused palms. Sang grew up on a ship, and it shows. While she's not exactly pretty- her Roman nose is rather large, and she's awfully harsh-looking for a woman- there's something about her that draws the eye. Probably the height, or the ridiculous hat she tends to wear. Plainclothes for her seem rather out of place for most; after all, what kind of respectable woman of her background wears leather pants and no gloves?
Personality : Eglantine, or Sang, depending on how close you are to her, is a serious lover of life. She relishes every moment of it, and enjoys it thoroughly. Not much of an intellectual, she would rather be doing something than reading about it. Once upon a time, she lived on a ship, and on a ship, there's plenty to do. Her favorite thing to do was take one of the johnboats and row alongside her family's clipper for a while, and when she was upset, she used to hole up in the crow's nest and dream. But that was long ago, or so it seems, and she'd very much appreciate it if you didn't talk about it, thank you very much. One sometimes gets the impression that her cheeriness is a mask for something, some deep melancholy that she just doesn't want to think about. This is entirely correct, and Sang deals with all of her problems by ignoring them. It's just in her nature. Although her voice isn't the prettiest, she loves to sing old sea shanties quite loudly, especially when she's, ah, under the influence. Upon meeting her, most people wonder what on earth she's doing here; dry land seems alien to the tall, strong girl with the rollicking gait, and an academic setting seems even odder.
Keywords [5 Max]: Ocean, Sunshine, Good Humor, Un-Ladylike
History :
Eglantine Sangreal, though nobody ever addresses her by her full name, is a true daughter of the sea. Her father, Sinclair Sangreal, a former naval captain, discharged with highest honors, had bought a shop near the waterfront that had caught the attention of a rather wealthy man, some twenty years older than him. This would have been completely irrelevant, had this man not had an exceptionally beautiful daughter called Anneliese. The fact that she was ten years younger than the captain was completely ignored; when you are twenty-three and in love, age means nothing. They were married with great ceremony, and the newly minted Mrs. Sangreal rejoined society as the wife of a merchant and a sea captain. Given her husband's station and the wealth she brought with her, it was no surprise that society embraced her and the children she began to have. Her first three children were boys, all handsome young men, but they're not important right now. Her fourth child, her only daughter, was a little thing she named Eglantine, and she's the important one at the moment. From her birth, Eglantine never went by her full name; it was a mouthful to describe such a small infant, and while its meaning was poetic, she was far more often called by the unfortunate nickname of Eg.
Eg's first six years of life were relatively uneventful; she and her brothers got along fairly well, for she was as much of a tomboy as a girl could be. Dresses were alien things, strange uncomfortable and impractical tents to be worn by society ladies. Even at such a tender age, when most girls want nothing more than to be princesses, Eg knew very well that such a life was not for her. She was awkward in any social setting; most six-year-old girls don't appreciate being shown a frog collection, and their mothers frowned upon the little girl's unfortunate tendency to swear loudly with words she'd gleaned from her older brothers' colorful vocabularies. It was fairly clear to all outsiders involved in her upbringing that the mademoiselle was growing up atrociously. The hapless little girl's life took a turn for the much better, however, when her parents finally decided that they had the funds for the endeavor they'd been trying for since the early days of their marriage. Without their children knowing much about what was going on, the family sold their shop and bought luxurious clipper ship. This was no piecemeal business; they had waited more than a decade for this, and as such, they had accumulated enough money to buy a beautiful little ship and hire only the most reputable hands. Per his naval experience, the former Captain Sangreal took up his title once more, while his wife became the ship's cook and teacher of her children. The ship was a trading vessel, dealing primarily in spices, and while the money wasn't as steady as it had been when the family were mercantiles, life on the ocean made the venture more than a fair trade. While it was true that her oldest brothers missed the land and their mates, the younger children loved the adventure, and the two young ones who came later never knew anything else. Their mother, was wise, and university-educated, and she imparted to her children all the academic knowledge they could ever need, while the captain and the ship's crew taught them the lessons of the sea. Eglantine learned how to navigate by the stars; how to tie eleven knots, none of which could be easily undone; how to spit and how to swagger; how to catch, gut, and cook a fish; how to sail and how to steer; how to love and how to live. By the time she was eighteen, Eglantine was as far from society's idea of a proper lady as one could get. Her parents were getting older, and it was their intent to soon hand over the ship to one of their children while they retired to the land.
Eg was the most likely choice for the ship's new captain; she, after all, was her father's favorite, and she, more than any of the others, had a deep devotion to the sea that outweighed any other passion. She had no interest whatsoever in becoming a landlubber, and while her parents looked at property when they sailed into various ports, she looked at ships and the sea, planning for any future at all, so long as she remained on the water.
When the ship last took port before the incident, a few new crewmates were taken on. One of these, a handsome young man named Wil, had quite caught her eye. And being the captain's daughter certainly had certain advantages when convincing a sailor to be your friend. As the months at sea went on, the two of them became quite close- something between a friend and a lover, a platonic romance of sorts. They were happy, and nobody tried to interfere, but sometimes good things can't last.
It started out like a normal storm. Storms at sea are never pleasant, so all but the most experienced crew members went below deck to wait it out. But then something happened. A terrible cry came from the deck, a shout louder than the storm, and there was a loud cracking, snapping noise. Afraid that they might be losing the mast, the rest of the crew- Sang and her younger brothers included- ran up the narrow staircases to see what was happening. Fortunately, it wasn't the mast. One of the knots holding the mainsail had come loose, and the line was flailing about. This wasn't a terrible problem for the ship- the lines were all doubled, so that the loss of one wouldn't be a capsizing risk; it was, however, a great danger to everybody in range of the rope, for the winds were fast enough to turn the rope into a deadly whip capable of inflicting shattered bones and fatal gashes. Seeing that any more people on the deck was a danger, the captain and his crew began ushering the newly-arrived sailors back downstairs. In the confusion, Sang's youngest brother, who was no more than eleven years old, was shoved back, slipping on the sopping deck. It wasn't long before the rope caught him, sending him sailing into the air and over the side of the ship.
Sang was the first one to see him go over, and she screamed as his falling body was illuminated in a flash of lightening. Not thinking, she staggered to the railing and flung herself in after him. The waves were high, the water freezing, but she fought the elements and her own shock to find him. Lightening flashed again, and she saw him there, floating and bleeding from a wicked-looking wound on his stomach. She couldn't tell if he was breathing or not, but that didn't matter. Wiping the water from her eyes, she kicked and beat against the water until she had a grasp on his shirt. She forced herself to keep their heads above the water until somebody from the ship spotted them and tossed them a line and hauled them back in. However, that never happened. Instead, the boatswain and the siblings' father dropped down in the ship's largest, sturdiest johnboat to rescue the children. As strong hands lifted them into the boat, Eg's world went black and she ended up mercifully unconscious.
Had she not passed out, she would have found it odd that the craft didn't head directly back to the ship. Instead, the boatswain and the captain continued to row, screaming themselves hoarse. It was almost as if they were looking for something. But the storm continued to pick up energy, and finally, the small craft turned around, defeated. Eg, however, was unconscious, half-drowned, and certainly in no fit state to be observing anything. But she would have found it very odd.
It turned out that her Wil, being equally concerned, equally reckless, and even stronger than she, had dove in after her. He, however, wasn't as visible, or perhaps just wasn't as lucky. While she was revived and her brother was patched up by the ship's surgeon, and some would say that two out of three isn't bad, the woman would beg to differ. It was with black sails that the ship next sailed into port, and it was at this port that Eg, who never answered to that name again, left her ship and began to go by Sang. She ended up with a friend of the family, and he's the one who suggested her to Jaradin.
So here she is, a fish out of water at a large university, an odd girl who refuses to talk about the fateful night that landed her here. Nobody's quite sure what exactly happened, for Sang refuses to talk about it. All that is known is that she is here now, at Jaradin of all places, and that she occasionally receives very official-looking letters sealed with black wax.
Oh. And she's deathly afraid of water.
