Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2015 0:17:18 GMT -6
||| ROSELUCK |||
Vector by Silentmatten
Name: Roseluck
Age Group: Adult
Gender: Female
Species: Earth Pony
Occupation: Romance Novel Writer / Part-Time Florist
Skills and Abilities: Talented as a fiction writer (after the procrastination), Skilled as a Florist
Physique: Thinner than Earth Pony Average
Mane and Fur Color and Style: Coat is Very Pale Yellow, while Mane and Tail are Moderate Raspberry with Light Raspberry Streaks and are Thick and Tousled.
Eye Color: Pale, Light Grayish Chartreuse Green
Other Appearance Details: While her Physique is thinner than average for an Earth Pony, her mane and tail are especially voluminous and often are a source of annoyance, the brush having only so much say where they are concerned.
PersonalityRoseluck is an easy pony to overlook and a tricky pony to know, and a lot of that is because she simply does not stick out much as a personality. In an average day for her, she wakes up with the sun, goes on a walk or a jog during the chilly months, stops at Sugarcube Corner for a coffee with creamer and a bagel, works with the florists if times are tough, and tends to be mellow & casual to other ponies. Sometimes, she gets a little distracted by a daydream, but is not prone to being remote. In terms of Ponyville, she is simply the girl next door.
Once she is in her home, however, she is still the same pony, but the same pony that flops on her couch, has a quick and simple salad mix, dresses in an outfit for no occasion she is actually going to, maybe dance a bit, get in a chapter of one of her books scattered throughout the place, moves her potted plants around, have another cup of coffee or a cold, intoxicating cider and late in the night, maybe, just maybe, she will tie her mane back, put on her glasses, and sit at the typewriter.
What she types is a secret, of course, and you will never read a book with her name on it, though the name, “Bluebell Brush” is appearing on a book here and there. Not a soul in Ponyville knows, and for some reason, Roseluck seems content with that, enjoying her secret. Little personal things are fun that way. What sours her mood quickly are especially shrewd and logic-bound ponies, and there is no argument she cares less for than the notion that the emotional is a burden on the logical.
HistoryRoseluck was born in Fillydelphia and raised in a brick townhouse on a cobblestone street lined with tall trees, her father and mother working and having met at the same axle-bearing factory along the Delamare River. She had a pretty standard foalhood for the neighborhood, and had her fair share of scrapes from misadventures, bloody noses from the playground bullies, run-ins with the rules, but also Summer camping trips with her family and a few others, moments of friendship and puppy love, good & bad report cards, and good & bad manecuts à la Mom.
She pointedly did not get her Cutie Mark late while attending Extended Education School (more crudely known as Blank Flank School). At the time, Roseluck passed the time in classes scribbling romantic vignettes while appearing that she was taking notes from the teachers. During her second year there, nobody broke her heart, so she certainly did not write an amateur, but heartfelt short story about it under the name of Blue-something-or-other, and she certainly did not get her Cutie Mark after reading a first review of said story. Nope.
Not long after she left Extended Ed., she went into the Florist trade, using her Cutie Mark to escape the axle-bearing factory fate she had dreaded for so long. As a young adult, she moved to Ponyville, citing to her Fillydelphia-proud family that the florist trade made more bits and was much more expansive there because of exotic flowers brought in from the wild Everfree Forest. There is, of course, a larger reason she moved hundreds of miles away from Filly, but when she started typing in her new little house in Ponyville, she never focused on it again.
Nickname: ♓ Inky
Age: About as Old as Your NES
Gender/Preferred Pronouns: Female, She/Her
How did you find us?: Current Member, Originally via Equestria Daily
Sample RPTaking care with her hooves, Roseluck lifted the needle on her gramophone, put in a vinyl, and put down the needle, letting out Rock n' Roll at 78 RPM ( ♫ ~ Hey, now, baby, well, I like your smile, why don't you come and talk to me for a little while ~ ♫ ) that filled up her home, cruising past the photo of Hot Rod Carriages in Las Pegasus and the painting of a rainsoaked weeping willow in oil & a cheap frame, tickling past the petals of her moonflower pointing outside and between the curtains to the night. The music was right, but now she was hungry!
No ... actually she was thirsty! Some heavy food would just tire her out, and she needed the opposite. The brought out the can of Foalgers from her refrigerator, poured a generous amount in a white paper filter, slapped it in her stained coffee machine with some water and turned it on. Okay, coffee was on the way, and she supposed there was no reason to avoid a few sticks of celery while she was waiting. She reopened the fridge and felt a little chill as she reached in, and she was just two bites into a stalk when she realized! She needed something cozy too!
Still absentmindedly chewing on the celery, she pulled open the door of her closet and stepped inside, giving the ball-chain for the hanging light bulb a sharp tug with her teeth. Okay, there was the thick, long robe but that was for Winter. There was the sheer 'robe' with the feathery collar and foreleg sleeves, but if she wore that she'd rush into a certain scene in the story too quick! She thought for a moment, brushing the doorway of the closet with her tail. A good outfit for a formal date scene ... Her eyes lit up and she put on a simply evening gown with long sleeves!
At last she sat down in front of the black-iron typewriter with her thick-frames on, putrid black coffee to the side and her mane in a loose, rushed ponytail. "Alright, remember ... don't think too hard, just write ... we're going to do this! Let's see, where was I ... 'She would not remember the shimmer of the crystal jewelry for the sparkle of the other mare's sapphiric ...' okay, I've got this." She took a deep breath and a deep drink of her coffee from her favorite writing mug ("Fillydelphia Fillies Rule!"), and the typewriter began its nightly clicking.
