[Dionysus] Lark Chamberlain

[bobaTJ]

C H O S E N . O F . D I O N Y S U S

 

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B A S I C S

• Name: Lark Chamberlain
  
• Nickname: Kiki, [...]
  
• Gender: Female
  
• Age and Birth Date: 23, November 9, 1993
  
• Occupation: Freelance artist

APPEARANCE
She is a young woman who looks much, much younger than she is with an oval-shaped face and low-set, large blue eyes. She wears black plastic-frame glasses most of the time and leaves contact lenses to special events and, soon enough, missions and battle. Her hair is light blonde and hangs between her shoulder blades, and is generally worn down in public but is put up for arting or, again, battling. She almost always has a hair tie around her wrist. Clothing-wise she enjoys pastels and brights but also a bit of punky accessory and flair, and her favorite blouses are nearly off-the-shoulder. Her build is very thin and falling just under 5'3", with a small waist and small breasts. Her nails are almost always painted, but equally as often kept short for convenience.
face claim: Gemma Ward [X][X][X] +glasses
eye color: [X]
piercings: two in each lobe, left helix, right nostril
tattoos: small red heart to the left of a dainty semicolon on her left wrist


PERSONALITY
Lark has been through a lot of s**t, but her determination and strength allowed her to pull through each time the darkness came again. She was able to hold up two jobs and school and put herself through college of her own volition. She prides herself on this trait but doesn’t often speak of pride. It is also because of all the bad things that have happened that Lark has come to believe in the little things. The little things matter. In fact, they often matter more than the big things. A little buzz, a butterfly, a tasty snack, whatever it is, she’d bound to love it. Even riding the swings at the park is treated like a great gift. Life is too short to worry about the little everyday problems. Predictably, Lark is also almost unfailingly bubbly and cheerful. She loves social situations and interacting with people and has perhaps too little social anxiety. She is often underestimated for her appearance coupled with her joy.

Underestimation is perhaps not the best idea with this little blonde, however. She may look innocent, but she has a bit of a temper. Her pride sometimes causes her to take things personally, and anyone she finds to be offensive or cruel is bound to get a blonde in their face. She is fiercely protective of her friends and family and is quick to raise her voice. She also has very little sympathy for shallow drama and is fairly open about her feelings when it comes to such situations. This sometimes comes alongside or in spite of her deep empathy. Sometimes Lark is overcome with others’ emotions and it can lead to unnecessary melancholy or guilt. On the other hand, it enables her to understand others’ issues. Unfortunately, Lark is potentially very easy to manipulate as well. She chooses to believe that there is good in the world, even knowing that some people suck entirely. Unless she is given a reason to distrust a person she will believe in them and what they say.

Lark is also quite observant. She is rather good at reading people in all sorts of situations. It is a skill that has grown over time and she’s become more aware of what people mean versus what they say. Gestures and movement are to be seen, even if she isn’t intentionally trying to observe. She also notices all of the leaves of a tree individually and views most situations as beautiful in some way or another, unless they’re on the deep end of horrifying.

As far as her art goes, Lark is a traditional artist, working mostly in watercolor w/ ink or copics. She attended an art-based high school and dabbled in other forms like drama while there, but always fell back into her usual work. This was where she gathered her first real group of friends. Her art helped her survive the darkest parts of her young life thus far in practice and expression. More recently, she attended college for traditional art and honed her skills. She has a YouTube channel up for progress videos and advertisement and an online shop for prints and commissions, and a fairly decent fan group over the internet. She has since been able to focus more completely on her art, rather than where she has to be and when.

DEITY
Lark is is able to achieve incredible realism armed with watercolors, but she is also rather good at running on little to no steam for long periods of time and her determination is impressive. That coupled with her empathy for the innocent would make her one hell of a warrior, which is something people don't generally associate with artists. She is an artist, however, and rather good one with an incredible zest for life.
 

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R O L E P L A Y . L O G

[ diigo list ]

weapon: war hammer
current level: 0
exp: 20

recruited by Olivia von Hooten


R E L A T I O N S H I P S

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Family
Biological : Mother [Ava - deceased] , Father [Jeffrey - deceased]

ZEUS

HERA

POSEIDON

DEMETER

ATHENA

APOLLO

ARTEMIS

ARES

APHRODITE

HEPHAESTUS

HERMES

DIONYSUS

 

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C O M B A T

[ nothing yet ]  

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A R T

 

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✩ .R E C R U I T M E N T

Lark sat in the rays of a pleasant winter sun at her desk, surrounded by the various bits and bobs she needed to work on her latest work of art. It was a simple thing, just a seasonal piece to wish her subscribers happy holidays with a splash of hot cocoa. Her camcorder was sitting atop its mini-tripod to capture her work as she painted. It would take at least an hour, but the video itself would only be a few minutes. Almost nobody wanted real-time art, and that was fine.

She was setting down her colors now before the consideration of lines, smiling at the reds and browns and cloudy greys. It was nice to do something for herself every so often without any expectation of art books or commissions or special requests. The young woman hummed to herself as she painted, knowing that the audio would be replaced later by some pleasant music and perhaps a voice-over. Lark was all alone in her pretty little world, bundled in a sweater with the sleeves pushed up while her heater hummed softly.

It was time to switch brushes, though, and the artist reached up to retrieve a smaller one from the window sill. How it had ended up there she wasn't sure, but there was no harm in it. Unfortunately when her arm came back, her elbow bumped against the cup of murky water she had been washing her brushes in. It was too late by the time she noticed it, and the glass toppled over and splashed cool water across her desk. Immediately she picked up her paper and held it over her head to rescue her work from the destructive force of gross water. All she could do was watch it spread across the surface and wonder how long it was going to take to clean everything up.

The water was a transparent sort of grey-brown, like the tub after you gave the dog a bath, and-- well, actually maybe it was more red, come to think of it. Or... purple?

Lark's eyes widened as the pigments that had been set and mixed into the water began to separate. Red and violet and yellow and blue, turned primary and secondary and everything in-between in spidery branches that crawled across the surface of the desk. The water around the outside edge was now crystal-clear, and the colors within began to form shapes. By God, Lark thought, those are words. With her paper still hovering above her head in her hands, she leaned over to see. Was she going insane?

I am Dionysus the words read, I have Chosen you. Accept my blessing and someone will come for you.

The moment she had finished reading those words, a new set whirled in the water: Say yes, and it will mean magic in your life.

The young woman's breath came in short pants now. Either she was experiencing a side-effect of insomnia or something very, very strange was happening. Magic? Who didn't love magic? She thought of the novels and comics she had read, the ones she preferred, where some average Joe was suddenly urged into an incredible adventure. She reached out to touch the water just as the pigments fled back into it, mixing to the usual murky brown. She laughed. What in the world?

It wasn't until later, when she checked the footage of the incident, that she realized that the camera hadn't caught anything at all. She heard the glass tip and hit the floor and saw the brown water spread, but none of the swirling pigments remained. Even lacking evidence, though, she would say yes, and as she swept the water from her desk and dried her tools and paint pots, her anxiety turned to excitement. Even if she was just nuts, that had been one heck of a hallucination, hadn't it? It'd fuel pleasant dreams, she was sure. It would be the inspiration for a hundred new pieces of art and perhaps even a brand-new story. Maybe it had been its own sort of magic, she thought, but she had no idea.  

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