Post by nimithil on Mar 24, 2012 18:30:33 GMT -5
nimithil thranduilion
A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna míiriel
o menel aglar elenath!
Na-chaered palan-díriel.
full name, Nimithil Thranduilion
nicknames, Nim
age, Like his little brother, Nimithil is exceptionally young for an elf. He and Legolas are unusually close in age for elven siblings – Nimithil being only 571, whilst Legolas is 537.
class/profession, Royalty – though he sometimes does his best to appear otherwise. He is also a marshal in the royal Mirkwood guard.
marital status, single
race, elf (sindar)
alliance, Allied to his father – though his mind could be swayed. His father's desire for the ring of power, and his increasingly reckless decisions of war are, to the perceptive Nimithil, obviously wrong – and testing his alligence.
hair, like his brothers and father, Nimithil's hair is blonde – unusual as it is amongst the sindarin and silvan elves. Unlike his brother's, Nimithil's hair does not have a golden hue: it is more silver. But then, Legolas was always the sun, where Nimithil was the moon. His hair hangs in elegant curtains about his face, in the style which is characteristic of elven royalty: though his talent for keeping his hair smooth comes no where near that of his brother's, and his warrior braids are often loose and unruly (to his father's shame).
eyes, Nimithil's eyes are a strikingly dark blue – deep pits of saphirre bored into a pale, flawless face. Holding his gaze is considered difficult: the elf's eyes are piercingly clear, and the juxtaposition of youthful light and dark shadows in the blue orbs seems to unnerve many.
build and body, Nimithil is, like all elves, tall and slender – though more so than many of his brethren. He has his father's regal height, but is perhaps worryingly slim (each bone easily picked out against his pale skin). The young elf looks rather as if he could be blown over by the slightest breeze – something which disguises his considerable strength.
anything else, The sons of Thranduil are known in Middle Earth for their beauty: whilst the title of female elven beauty is contested by Arwen Undomiel and Galadriel, the name of most beautiful male elf has only ever belonged to the youngest princes of Greenwood. Legolas is called beautiful – but Nimithil's radiance is another level: almost feminine elegance. Not infrequently has been mistaken for a beautiful elven woman – to his constant embarassment.
face claim, Andrej Pejic
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likes, the trees and open air: Nimithil was born in the Guarded peace, when the people of Greenwood the great still dwelt in the trees like the elves of Lorien – and the middle prince learnt his people's love of the forest. He sees no beauty greater than that of the trees, and he longs for the day Thranduil will lead their people out of their caves and into the sunlight again.
Rivendell: Nimithil's trips to Imaladris have always been an escape for the young elf. Outside of his father's influence, Lord Elrond always accepted the prince as he was – teaching him in the arts his father found unworthy, such as healing and songmastery. Nimithil has always felt at peace and at home in Rivendell.
Healing: As a prince of Greenwood, Nimithil has always been made to fight – to wound and to destroy. It is something he has never enjoyed, and healing is the one thing he feels allows him to atone for the harm he does in his father's name. Nimithil's nature is to protect, and to nurture – not to kill.
Singing: This art has always been discouraged by Thranduil. Nimithil is his second son, and holds more responsibility than his younger brother. His father and king has always told his middle son not to sing – it is not appropriate for a warrior of Nimithil's position, but for the young elf it is a expression of himself which brings him joy and release.
Horses: What would a prince be without his noble steed? Needless to say, Nimithil has a great love and respect for horses – they are friends more than servants, and Nimithil finds very few thing more relaxing than spending a few hours tending the horses of the royal stables.
dislikes, Fighting: Talented warrior though he is, Nimithil detests fighting. Still, he does, for his father – but taking life makes the young prince feel physically sick, especially when it is in the name of one of his king's reckless and unnecessary campaigns. He will fight to save the life of someone he loves, but he has never enjoyed it, and he never will.
The caverns of Greenwood: Nimithil knows that elves belong under the stars, and he resents his father's move to the great caverns he has crafted beneath Greenwood. Nimithil is proud of his people and his home: but he longs to live in the trees again, rather than amongst the stone trees and reflected sun and starlight of Thranduil's palaces.
Tactics: The tactical meetings of Thranduil's war cabinet are the worst of Nimithil's responsibilities under his father. The prince hates to take life – and to cold-heartedly plan the most efficient way to do so brings him a great deal of disquiet. Yet, as always, he plays the part in order not to disappoint his father.
His Status: Being royalty comes with an obligation to be dignified – which in Thranduil's eyes means cold, stern and aloof. Nimithil is naturally open and gentle, and to see the distrust and dislike people have for him and his royal persona is difficult for him. It is for this reason which, on his travels, the middle prince has done his best to abandon his name and its connotations.
His father's hard-headedness: Perceptive as he is, Nimithil is fully aware of how foolish many of his father's battles are. His feud with the dwarves is unreasonable, his poorly planned battles with the evil encroaching on Mirkwood are ineffective and costly, and his burrow in the rock seems set to become his tomb. Nimithil sees the number of lives lost to his father's poor decisions – but his loyalty to Thranduil is such that he will never speak up.
strengths, Physically, Nimithil has all the strengths of his people: keen senses of eyesight and hearing which shame the mortal races, along with the famed elven agility which sees the middle prince leaping from or to ungodly heights, and moving with such flexibilty and speed that men can hardly keep up with their eyes alone. He also shares with all elves their endurance and healing ability – and the Sindar elves' ability to, on some level, communicate with the trees. Nimithil is, like his brother, a valiant warrior: though his art is most in knives, and secondly the bow – and he does not share his brother's measured, precise style. Nimithil fights with emotions: furious, wild and vibrant. The young elf is also, on the most part, deeply perceptive: he is thoughtful, and intelligent enough to survey each situation wisely, and he sees quickly the right way to turn, or the problems in the plan – though he will not always speak out. A talented healed, Nimithil has put this talent to use numerous times, and selflessly. He is also naturally atune to the music of Arda: a masterful songweaver, and a singer purer and more powerful than most even amongst the elves.
weaknesses, Nimithil's greatest weakness is his love of his father. Seeking his king's approval leads the young prince to go against his convictions and his beliefs time and time again: often to the detriment to his own health – and, at the very worst times, the best interests of Greenwood and its folk. Nimithil's looks have always been a problem for him: fair though his family are, it is Nimithil who has been on many occaisions mistaken for an elleth – and this has solicited many unwanted and sometimes aggressive advances from elves, orcs and men alike. Legolas, also, has always been a weakness of his brother's. The middle prince takes his role as older brother and close friend seriously, and would lay down his life, his position and his home for the younger in a second. Despite his thoughtful nature, Nimithil will always be reckless for his brother. Naturally kind, and good-natured, the young elf will often think the best of people – and not always correctly. He is, if anything to trusting... except of himself. Nimithil has great belief in the ability of those he cares for, yet he cannot see his own. The prince is always second-guessing himself, and finding the flaws in his actions.
fears, finally being over-powered and tainted by someone who has fallen for or misunderstood his feminine looks.
not finding his younger brother, Legolas – or worse, finding him dead.
That Greenwood will fall to the shadows in his absence, and he will not have been there to fall with his people.
dreams, to die a good death – and for his father to mourn him.
To find his younger brother, and to bring him home safely.
To see Greenwood great again.
personality, Nimithil's whole life has been trying to match up. The middle son, he has always been the one most overlooked by Thranduil – and it has shaped him more than anything else. More than anything else, he wants his father to be proud of him: but he was never the man of war his older brother was. Nimithil's heart does not lie in battle, or in tactics. The elf is at his core a man of peace – his passion lies in healing, and in music, and in art, and in the simple pleasures of peace. But his father never wanted a healer or a musician for a prince. And so, Nimithil has become, in part, what his father always wanted. While his father's eyes watch, the young elf plays his part to perfection – he is stern, and regal, and cold in disposition. To those who meet him briefly, he is called aloof, or calculating. The ice prince: emotionlessly leading his people into battle. But friends will see in this appearance of their prince an isolation, and a solemn sorrow: this is never what Nimithil wanted to become – yet he determinedly denies his own character for his father. The is a sad futility to Nimithil: an understanding that he will never do his father proud, but a stubborn desperation to try.
These things lay heavy upon the middle prince, and his bright nature is dampened by the sights of war and a lingering self-doubt. There is a shadow in the elf, and a brokeness. He longs to atone for his sins in battle, yet his role as prince will not allow it as long as he follows his father's lead. As such, the young elf is prone to self-hatred, silence or depression at times. Never-the-less, once out of his father's sight, Nimithil is still another character altogether. Naturally open and trusting, the young elf is generous and gentle, and will always set his needs aside for those of another. He takes great pleasure in nature, and has a smile whose glow will brighten a room. Loyal to the death, Nimithil will push rationailty aside to asist his companions, and is naturally trusting and friendly to all the folk of Arda – though sometimes to his own downfall. The middle prince is bright, and talkative, with a youthful sense of humour. Yet all these things his father counts not as values, and so, until his late escape from Greenwood, he has had little chance to be the free-spirited child he has always truly been. A valuable friend and fierce warrior, Nimithil only longs for the chance to be at peace – to heal, and to sing, and to bring joy to his companions.
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father, Thranduil Oropherion: Nimithil has spent his entire life trying to earn his father's respect, and is fiercely loyal to the king. No matter how rash Thranduil's decisions, Nimithil is always the first to support him – even though the thoughtful young elf knows how reckless or foolish his father often is.
mother, Huclya Cuthalion, deceased: Nimithil was the daughter his mother never had – the elf woman adored having a son so delicately beautiful that she could dress him up like a little doll. Nimithil's feeling towards his mother were mixed: she was the warm, nurturing influence in his life – but also the one whose fussing saw him bullied in his younger years. Still, he misses her.
siblings, His older brother: Nimithil and his brother have always been close – the older always taking care of the younger. Nimithil has always wanted to live up to his older brother: he has always been the one his father trusts, and Nimithil has never matched up.
Legolas: Nimithil loves his younger brother more than he could ever express in words. He is incredibly jealous of Legolas's freedom from royal responsibility as the youngest prince – but he would lay down his life to protect his little brother.
other figures, Lord Elrond: Elrond has always been a second father to Nimithil. The elf Lord is the one who has nurtured Nimithil's talents for healing and music, and he is the one who has accepted Nimithil as exactly who he is before anyone else.
lineage, Eventual decsendant of Thingol Greymantle and Melian the Maiar: the royal line of Mirkwood, formerly Greenwood the Great.
history, Nimithil, the middle of the three princes of the Greenwood elves, is young – much younger than most elves of Middle Earth. Still only an adolescant, in mortal eyes. He was born in the Guarded Peace, when Sauron was first banished from Arda. It was a time of mixed feelings in Thranduil's realm: peace, yes, was upon them. The great forests were bright and pure once more, and lit by the singing of the elves who resided amongst them... and yet, only a third of Oropher's army had returned, and their old King was dead. But the Silvan elves are naturally hopeful people – and Greenwood – Eryn Lasgalen – was green once more. The land was at peace, and slowly rebuilding: and it was it this time that Nimithil grew, and the memory of living amongst the trees still lives on in his mind as the best and most carefree time of his life. But even in the Guarded Peace, Thranduil feared the threat from Mordor would grown once more – and in secret he delved deep into the earth in the forest, and carved for himself great caverns in the stone: a great fortress, deep underground, in the image of Beleriand of old; where he dreamt his people would be safe.
And, for once, the paranoia of Thranduil proved right, as shadows began to spread through the Greenwood once more, from the treeless heights of Dol Guldur. Spiders once more crept into the woodland realm, and bands of orcs walked the south of the forests – and Nimithil's childhood was cut short. The elves then were shown the stronghold of the Elvenking's halls, and they moved from under the stars to under the stone – and whilst at first the ornate carved trees and the sunlight reflected from above enchanted the elves, though soon they longed to return to the woods. Nimithil, trained from childhood to fight and battle for his father, was given his place in the royal guard – and then began the battles for Mirkwood. Nimithil lead his people on many a hopeless campaign to regain the woods – and he saw his friends fall at the word of Thranduil. Nimithil himself saw the creatures of the dark many times, and returned home gravely injured more times than he could count – surviving many an ambush, and even capture at the hands of the enemy. His mother was lost in this time, and her death weighed heavy on Nimithil's heart – though his determination to die well for his father kept him from succuming to his grief.
For hundreds of years Nimithil led this life – his only escape from his father's bidding coming from his trips to Lord Elrond of Imaladris, where he could be himself around Elrond and his sons, and learn more of the arts of healing and songmastery. The Battle of the Five armies came and went – and was, to Nimithil, little more than another glimpse of the miseries of war. Still, the middle prince continued to stand adamnatly by his father in all things, despite his efforts always being overlooked. And so, the long years of his life passed – in battle with both the shadows and his own mind – and Nimithil rarely had time to be himself. And then Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Ranger of the North and foster-son of Elrond, came to the Elvenking's halls with a creature, named Gollum. When the creature escaped, it was Legolas, the youngest son, who took the news to Elrond. When his younger brother did not return, Nimithil asked his King for permission to seek out his missing son – but it was not granted. And for the first time, Nimithil turned against his father, and set out alone through the forest, to Rivendell. There, Elrond told him of his brother's quest – and Nimithil set firm in his heart his wish to find his brother and ensure his safe return. Since then he has travelled the road to Mordor alone in search of Legolas – his name and status hidden.
alias, Cydney
age, Old (19)
experience, 6+ years?
other characters, none yet!
rp sample,The sun was already high over the dusty red waste of Chicago – the world hot and unfriendly, as it always was. The once beautifully trimmed trees which filled the park offered a shade which Jude revelled in: it was winter, cool for this part of the world, but the girl had always preffered snow to sunshine. It was beautiful, in a way: the wild undergrowth and ivy-coated old monuments; like some exotic rainforest, if you ignored the smell of blood that pervaded the air. But you couldn't: smell, and sound, and sight – if you ignored anything now, you would hardly have time to regret it; and so Jude logged away each tiny detail of the world around her as the made her careful way through the sun-dappled greenery. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she was sure any redcoat nearby would hear, and her breath hitched with each twig cracked underfoot... but for now at least, she was alone in the woods. She didn't intend to be for long.
The very slightest of sounds, and the young redhead spun sharply – hand tightening around the gun wedged through her belt as she stared intently through the trees. There was nothing to be seen and, with a single, deep, lightly-trembling breath, Jude took a leap of faith – one small hand left her firearm, and with new purpose, the slight redhead veered off her path. If he said he'd be here, she trusted him. Forgetting subtelty, she strode through the undergrowth with no thought to the noise she made – ignoring the branches that pulled at her wild red hair and wellworn jacket. If it wasn't Harry, then she was the walking dead already – but the young woman forced that thought from her mind: stepping out into the clearing.
And relaxed. A careful smile (affectionate, some might say) slipped onto her face, and the ordeal of hunting the man down was forgotten as Harry's strong voice rang out. Of course, she barely listened to what he said: they were both still alive. So what did it matter if he was covered in blood? She had seen worse. She had pictures of worse pasted across her walls. She had wiped the blood from her own little sister's lips. Jude wasn't scared of Harry, and she was not going to judge him.
The girl swung her rucksack off her back and crouched down, rummaging around to find a tissue and a half full bottle of whiskey. Moving over to the man, she quietly pressed the bottle into his hand – not meeting his eyes as she spoke. “You aren't sending me away, old man. I had to get past a load of redcoats to get here, and I'm not doing it again without my very favorite body guard”, she hummed easily, doing her very best to bring some shadow of normalcy back to the man and distract him from the blood which painted his body. Licking the tissue in her hand, she leant up to dab away the red stains across his face – doing her very best to conceal the nausea that rose in her throat at the sight of Harry like this. It was wrong, from every single angle, but it wasn't his fault.
credit to phips, don't steal!
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