From Wiki

Prisca Belfours
Statistics Name Prisca Nicoline Sophie Belfours Status Alive Age 29 Class Noble Rank Baroness Affiliation L'Agnace Themesong Por Una Cabeza (The classical Tango) Quote "One cannot get into trouble alone. It is better in pairs and with someone who is willing to get caught with you" - Prisca "In Serenissima you were renown Baronne for the frequency of lovers to your bedroom. Here in Elua you are becoming renown for the frequency of your accountant to your office" - Mejar Portrayed by  Natalie Portman App Status Taken

Contents 1 Background 1.1 The Start 1.2 Growing Up Belfours 1.3 Becoming the Baronne Belfours 1.4 The Beautiful Baronne 1.5 Personality 2 Recent Events 3 Trivia 4 Links 5 Wardrobe 6 Soundtrack 7 Lineage 8 Alts

Background

The Start

The first and only child of Baron Edmund Gérald Stéphane and Baronne Sibylle Valentina Gisèle Belfours, Prisca was brought screaming to the world her displeasure at being born, A purple faced, fist waving bundle of voice. A violent birthing though, that brought joy and tragedy. Sibylle did not suffer through it well and passed to the Terre D'Ange that lays beyond. It was this act that set the stage for the vivacious woman that would be. Edmund doted on his daughter, as if thinking so would compensate for the loss of a mother and maternal figure. A child of the Little Court, he had made sure she was born in Terre D'Ange and when old enough, brought her to La Serenissima, to the little court that his wife was raised in and so adored. All that she wanted, was provided.

Growing Up Belfours

The darling of the court as she grew. A thirst for knowledge, in everything, though never settling for too long on one subject. From year to year her plans for when she came of age changed. First she wished to be a courtesan, but when her father sat her down, to tell her of what it entailed, particularly leaving la Serenissima, that was placed to the wayside. For how romantic it would be, to be in naamah's service, she didn't much take a liking to the idea of servitude, and time it would take to finally make ones marque. He had however brought some servants who had passed through the court, to teach her and educate her about the night court. Let never it be said that should his daughter ever go to his homeland, that she would be ignorant of her history. The next year, she wished to travel about as the tsingi no! A mendacant! He indulged her, by taking a trip to one of the gatherings of the Tsingi, a Hippochamp to buy her a horse, and indulge in her curiosity. While the clothes were a lure, the bright colors, eventually the though fluttered from her mind, when she realized how they lived, and that she would be expected to do as such. That and the pony her father purchased for her 14th birthday banished all thoughts from her mind, focusing on the beautiful white horse.

And so the years passed, indulgences, parties, the whole host. A priestess of Elua one year, perhaps taking the veils of Asherat the next. Traveling Terre D'Ange in the disguise of a peasant, and working as one. Whatever fancy crossed her mind. She flirted, wined, dined, teased and titillated men who came courting, D'Angeline and Caerdicci alike. Baroness was to be her title once her father passed, and who could not want for that and the coin that came with it. Darling of the little court, and not too bad a visual catch. She dallied with many, indulged in some, sometimes more than a dalliance, for the Servants of Naamah her father sometimes contracted from time to time could not bear to see that she should lack knowledge of Naamah's arts. But none could capture the heart and hand of Prisca. Fickle and picky that she was. Scandalous as well. Fashions from all the world, sometimes perhaps a bit more risque than most would like, but it suited her.

Becoming the Baronne Belfours

Her world crashed though one day, the sun hiding that day, the rain steady upon their windows. Her father and mother had bore her at a late age, whether it was through choice, or perhaps Eisheth's head was turned when her mother lit the candle. An aged man though not so old, Edmund had passed peacefully, or so she was told, in the middle of the night. A failure of the heart they say. He had gone to be with his wife. She was now the Baroness at the age of 23. With the death of her father, it seemed as if some part of her had died. Gone was the man who raised her, loved her, while he had lived, tried to instill in her the mannerism of a proper D'Angeline. She took to the task with zeal, as if to channel her grief into something productive, as she knew her father would wish for her to. The title came with responsibilities that he had prepared her for. People in place to advise her if needed, safeguards to the fortune. Many days as she was growing up, bounced upon his knee learning from where the funds came, how to set so much aside, what was there for the spending and the saving, upkeep. He knew that her heart would settle on a husband sometime, and that if she chose someone, he wanted her to know how to care and function on her own, to be an equal in her marriage, even though the odds that she would wed someone who was Caerdicci and of the mind that her place was not in business but the home.

So she maintained the fortune, took a small but tasteful home, selling the large one that she had grown up in. She blossomed in the little court a bit further on her own, the title helping, though sought no man's hand for wedlock. She was more careful with her choices in men, and not so public about them. Still courted by fops and others, intent on gaining her hand, it started to be rumored that perhaps, her title would die with her, because women at her age... well, no one wanted an old woman.

The Beautiful Baronne

Prisca (Pris-ka) stands roughly 5'7, with molten chocolate eyes, fringed by long plump lashes, usually rimmed in some form of makeup, though never overdone. Hair nearly the same shade tumbled gracefully down her back, reaching to her mid back, a slight wave that transforms to curls when wet. Caramel strands race through her locks here and there when in the perfect light. Lips just perhaps a shade too full, and a nose perhaps just a little too thin for her face. A beauty mark graces her one cheek, but does not detract from the image presented, but instead enhances. Makes her different from the others that seem to populate the little court and Terre D'Ange.

Her body is slender, the exception being hips that curve ever so sweetly and a rear that when cloth hugs it, begs to be touched or grazed. A sculptor's dream come to life, and rumored to have posed once or twice for that purpose. The only flaw, in the eyes of some though not hers, lies in her chest. A bit on the small side, it doesn't detract, much like the beauty mark, but emphasizes her other attributes. She speaks with a Caerdicci accent.

Personality

Prideful, vivacious and outgoing are some of the personality traits that Prisca has. She is very jovial and enjoys wreaking gentle havoc and having a fun time. Very few people manage to venture to the other side of her, to her wrath and displeasure. When they do she is known to suppress it and vent in a more carefully controlled and not so public avenue.

Recent Events

• The birth of Alexandra Jeanne D'Andronic on the 14th of June, 1187.
• Recently traveled fom Tiberium to Milazza on a supposed nuptial trip, but in truth, were trying to hunt down information for a friend.
• Wedded on September 22nd, 1186 to the Viscomte Foulque D'Andronic.

Trivia

• Contrary to popular belief, and her speech, Prisca is not Caerdiccian. Though raised in La Serenissima, the Belfours Peacock as some are known to call her, was born in L'Agnace, holds a D'angeline title, and land not far from the city.

• Prisca's Villa in la Serenissima is dubbed "The Fortress Belfours" due to a tremendously tall and thick wall with spikes atop that was erected overnight around it by a family friend. It was the focus of a going away party thrown by the Baronne. The invitations read "Storm the Fortress Belfours"

Links

Ledgers and Letters
IC Logs

Wardrobe

Dress	Dress
Hellenic Green Her dress is scandalous, perhaps too much of an expanse of her chest shown, the creamy skin dew kissed and visible through the folds of moss green fabric. Gold cord entwined to keep it close to her chest. Folds of the gentle filmy fabric float close to her, and behind her when she moves, golden slippers adorning her feet, with kid leather soles.	Red Corseted Her red satin dress is scandalous as always. Plunging far too deep in the chest, and tight. Tight through the waist, the folds dropping to the ground in a glorious red splendor. No sleeves, just straps, with matching red slippers with soft leather sole. A luxurious velvet black cloak settled about her shoulders, though deceiving to all since it is thin as it could possibly be, but pushed back to cover just her back.
Blue Serenissiman A deep blue gown, bordering on teal, ruched and bunched here and there on the skirt. Corseted to produce a tiny waist, of a fabric that when view in one light is iridescent green and another iridescent blue. Matching billowing sleeves that gather at the wrists, and attach to the shoulder straps of the dress by manner of golden chains. The chest is low and press what little cleavage there is, up.	Green Dress A simple looking grass green dress adorns her. The hem brushing the ground, a scooped neck that allows a glimpse of decolletage. Long sleeve that are wide at the wrist and split down the sides. Gold whipping cord holds it together leaving a hands span at the wrist open to the world. It looks deceptively simple and plain from a distance but up close one can tell that it's far from it. A fine linen, with near invisible stitching that denotes it as something a noblewoman might be inclined to wear around the house. Green ties at the side, starting underneath a band of gold ribbon, cinch it in at the under bust to waist to flatter and show off the slim form beneath as the skirt falls in folds. Green embroidery, just a shade darker than the color of the dress chases along hems, necklines and wrists. Ivy vines, chasing along the wrists. A pair of matching silk slippers peek from beneath the gown.
Jewelled Gown The Neckline is what you first see when you look at this decadence that is a dress. 4 wide bands that stretch from shoulder to shoulder in a gentle arch are littered with from Camlach, scattered in amidst crystals. From blue to green, purple to white the weight is impressive, but does not hamper the wearer, but infuses them with regality. A pale violet, verging on grey is supported on the last band of jewels, stitched in so fine, encapsulating the chest with it's fine layered silk. Another band of jewels underneath the bust to produce an empire waisted gown. The silk falls down, to the floor, folds within folds it seems, shimmering in the light and grazes the ground with each step. Sleeves of the same fabric fall from the lowest band that sit on the shoulder ending just past the wrist, falling back to the elbow when hands are raised.	Green Vine Jacket Meant for cooler days the jacket runs from shoulder to toes, cream colored background with a repeated trailing vines pattern, the inside lined in a muted green satin. Wide mouthed sleeves that are turned back to show the lining, a handspans worth. Green fabric and brown wooden toggles keep the jacket closed from neck to waist, the rest unrestrained for ease of walking. The hood ample enough to accommodate hairstyles of any kind.
Black Sheer A different dress, a bold design not commonly seen or pinpointed in origin. A high necked sheer black blouse, very finely spun is worn under an open front, split to the waist, overcoat of black that falls to mid thigh. The sleeves the same sheer material of the under blouse fall nearly to the floor and split from the elbow down. The collar of the overcoat had a palms width strip of embroidery, golden flowers and leaves that contrast with the inky black. The swell of each perfect breast can be seen through the sheer fabric, the absence of a corset can be noted but nothing else. The underskirts are the same fabric as the over jacket, but a layer of the sheer is laid over it to tie the entirety together, black slipper with gold embroidery.	The arms of the dress are tight, cut outs at elbow and wrist where white chambirc billows perfectly, gold cord restaining them. The necklike far from the usual indecent but low enough to put on modest display her improved assets with fine lace decorating the edging. The dusky pink brocade is empire waisted,tucked and seamed with gold cording on the sides to allow for adjustments, the ends fall down to her thighs. The split skirt brushes the floor and curl around the white layers that hug the swell of her waist.

Piece	Piece
Engagement Ring It's simple in it's elegance. A black diamond half an inch in size. It's not meant to show off, but truly as a token of affection and with great meaning. Surrounding the black diamond. is a ring of smaller diamonds that extends partway down the sides. Simple gold with the word "love" inscribed upon the inside.	Pearl Necklace A strand of pearls, well matched with a creamy luster. An impressive strand when worn, it rests just along the neck and just over the collar bone. A turquoise ribbon closes it at the back of the neck in a crisp bow. There are a near perfect match of pearl drops that go along with the strand as well as a double strand of pearls in a bracelet.

Soundtrack

Por Una Cabeza

.:Por Una Cabeza:.

Losing by a head of a noble horse
who slackens just down the stretch
and when it comes back it seems to say:
don't forget brother,
You know, you shouldn't bet.

Losing by a head, instant violent love
of that flirtatious and cheerful woman
who, swearing with a smile
a love she's lying about,
burns in a blaze all my love.

Losing by a head
there was all that madness;
her mouth in a kiss
wipes out the sadness,
it soothes the bitterness.

Losing by a head
if she forgets me,
no matter to lose
my life a thousand times;
what to live for?

Many deceptions, loosing by a head...
I swore a thousand times not to insist again
but if a look sways me on passing by
her lips of fire, I want to kiss once more.

Enough of race tracks, no more gambling,
a photo-finish I'm not watching again,
but if a pony looks like a sure thing on Sunday,
I'll bet everything again, what can I do?

Lineage

Alts

Doliana Afrelius
Felicie Durest
Gabrielle nó Heliotrope
Néomie de Fontaine