Profile of Anchali
Character Info
The Resilient Snowfarers
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Western Dynasty Royalty of Inactive

Anchali Chantara Aromdee is a Dire that identifies as Female. Anchali was born on and is 29 years of age.

  • Height: 5'6"
  • Weight: 135
  • Eye Color: Brown
  • Hair Color: Black
( 170 Mana )

You've got no place to hide

Trim and athletic, Anchali is built for speed more than pure strength, body as straight as an arrow. Nevertheless, there's a bulky strength about her shoulders and arms from handling glass blowing pipes and the length of a bow. She prefers for people to see only the image of a pampered princess and hides the muscles and burn scars from sight whenever possible. Instead, she presents the image of a proper lady, as she wants everyone to think. She keeps up on major fashion trends only to maintain a proper image, and cares little for the topic barring how well she blends with her peers and the greater population at court. Still, setting trends is part of the unspoken rules of court, and she often employs copious advice on how to stay ahead of the pack, leading some to whisper of her vanity and narcissism.

Her face may as well be the spitting image of her mother, round jawline and deep set eyes giving her a doe-like appearance. Eyes are the window to the soul, and her deep brown eyes show a deep and duplicitous one. Her smile is a sweet thing, cheeks dimpling at the hint of a grin. Every expression is picture perfect and ironically, it sometimes backfires on her. The flaw is that she refuses to open up in the slightest, and the more shrewd members of court can see the falsehood, even if what lies behind it is a mystery. Still, it a pretty thing and she dutifully plays the pampered princess, preferring a sweet and innocent appearance so that others buy into the persona of a sweet but shallow girl.

In private, she looks different. When not mimicking and performing for her peers, she can look almost harsh. Simpler clothes, made for work and hard use, if still well made. Plain colours, long hair pinned back into a no nonsense bun that cannot tangle or get into her eyes at a crucial moment. The muscles that swell at her shoulders unhidden and the red rashes and dotted burn marks that come with hours in front of the forge and the steam of a glass-working forge. The rugged dishevelment that comes with long hours sleeping rough, tracking some great prey through the thick foliage, clouded leopard sabre by her side. When there is no one to perform for, Anchali is a different person entirely. They look as different as night and day, and she can quickly grow waspish and impatient if someone attempts to visit her in the hours she sets aside for herself, knowing how much her hobbies do not mesh with the persona she shows the world. Only her closest companions have seen this side of her, some scant few she trusts and the staff that roam the palace. And her brother, however much she tries to discourage him visiting her unannounced.

On four paws, her appearance changes completely and at the same time, not at all. The deep browns and blacks are swapped for a pale grey palate, only a faintly darker grey ruff and a soft white underbelly to define the ghostly grey she uses to hunt with. Thick fur marks her as of the north, already bulky size only increased by the ruff that keeps her warm in the winds and snow that border their greenhouse empire. Long legs and a deep chest marker her as a runner, made for the long distance chase needed to outpace a deer and the stamina needed to hunt elk and caribou. Her eyes stay the same, most of the falsehood stripped away for an angry, aggressive stare that bubbles closer to the surface.



And I'm feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside

Sharp as a knife and twice as dangerous, everything Anchali is is hidden behind a picture perfect smile and a heart made of thorns. She has hidden her true feelings for years, and her dreams for longer still, lest someone pluck them like so many weeds. It makes her exceedingly difficult to truly know, since she's long since decided that people cannot be trusted with something as delicate as her heart. With tasks, secrets or schemes, perhaps, but never her heart. People can only be trusted to look out for their own interests, and what she feels matter not to them. So, she will not delude herself into thinking otherwise. Opinions and feelings are for her alone, and it can be like pulling a tooth to get any real information about her from the source.

She is an accomplished liar, and it's a common opinion that Anchali is everyone's friend. Her real opinions on people hidden, no matter how she feels about you, you are likely to get 'real' empathy from her. She extends the gesture to everyone, and her memory makes it an easy task for her. A flower for your birthday, an extra coin for the stable boy who's mother broke her leg, an appropriate treat to someone's taste, she makes it look easy. Conversation and social gestures are second nature to her, portraying whatever is best a skill she's practiced for years. A empire is no happier than it's people, and she intends for them to love her. And to be fair to her, she loves it back, and knows she has to truly know them. They are her people, and she wants the best for them, for them to be happy, healthy and untroubled. And her? She's the right choice. They'll see that if she only works a little harder.

At her heart, there is still that little girl who saw the stars and dreamed of cupping them in her hands like fireflies. No matter how she tried, she could not reach them. This has only brought out a stubborn persistence in her, the bone deep belief that if she worked a little harder, moved a little faster and beat her competition to the punch, she would get what she dreamed of. Her ambition burns bright, and she works herself down to the bone once she has lit on something she wants. She holds herself to a staggeringly high bar, and never lets herself rest until she's reached it. But if she sees someone else get her reward and she thinks she ought to have won, she can turn from your best friend into a devil in the blink of an eye. Grudges are set for life with her, and it is nigh impossible to for her to let them go. She can turn her cheek and smile, but there will come a reckoning, however far down the road it may be. Often, people know little of it until the time comes due. One of the only ones that has a bead on the grudge she holds is Decha. He knows her, grew up with her, and there is nothing that inflames her fury more than her brother knowing anything of her, much less how she feels of him.


One look in my eyes And you're running 'cause I'm coming

Born as the second child, from her first breath she was always second best in everyone but her mother's eyes. Not the heir, and more importantly, not male. She was nothing more than a political token and an eventual bride. This shaped her for the rest of her life, even if no one deigns to acknowledge it. While she initially looked up to her older brother, their close ages making them playmates and close friends at the start; it did not take long for the differences between the two to start growing. Decha was taught responsibility, catered to and shown the path for what everyone believed him suited for, all the building blocks to becoming Emperor set out like so many trifles in her opinion. She was taught to be a housewife, how to keep a home and be polite and mind her smile. It inflamed her pride like nothing else, and it did not take long for hatred to hide itself away at her heart. Both her father and Decha were to blame. She was the better choice, they'd see! She would make them see, if only she could get them to look.

The gap lit a fire in her. She quickly became openly rebellious and furious for a time, desperately reaching for things that were always snatched from her. Deemed irresponsible or unbecoming or a thousand other excuses, she very quickly realized she had to try another tack. They didn't care, and her father would NEVER change his mind. It wouldn't work, and was only driving those around her to deny her more freedoms as punishment for having the audacity to have dreams and wishes of her own. Her mother, though, praised her, holding her only child close. Her resentment and desire for the throne would not be half as deep if her mother had not raised her on the surety her daughter was the one meant for the throne. After all, the bastard wasn't hers, Anchali was the true heir if you asked her. In a bid to see her daughter confirmed as heir over Decha, the proud mother openly tarnished Decha's lineage and the Emperor's honor by naming him a bastard in the open. Before the eyes of gods and men, she named him as not her own. And for that, Anchali's mother, her last ally in the world, was exiled. She has never forgiven her father and brother for that, and she's sure she never will.

For a time, she was lost. No one to keep her company and too many rules to pin her down. Being as sharp as she was, it did not take her long to light upon something no one cared if she spent her time on. Reading. Properly ladylike and becoming, no one so much as turned their head when they saw the princess reading another storybook as long as her classes were done and she was not a bother. No one ever checked what it was that was actually printed on the pages as long as she twittered about how romantic this or that tale was. A love for academia flourished in the absence of her father's love and affection and she dove into the world of the written word with gusto, plundering the library for whatever she could. She quickly became distant from everyone and used the space to protect her heart from the thorny rejection that still brought tears when she least expected it. She devoured everything she could, on every subject she could. Law, economics, mathematics, the common trades of the dynasty, the art of war, and magic. Magic spoke to her. No one could stop her from practicing in her room, in the dark corners and long unused hallways of the palace. It was the one thing they could not take away from her, no matter how hard they tried. Her skill quickly flourished and it remains a point of pride for the vain young woman. Finally, something nobody could deny she was the best at.

Her late teens and early twenties were defined by her abject refusal to take a husband. She would not be some meek housewife, and while she was never so blunt as to merely refuse them, it never failed that eventually her suitor chose another no matter how high her dowry was raised. Money, favours, manipulation, blackmail. It mattered not, only that she kept that noose from being laid over her head without a fight. The day her father died, she built herself a greenhouse by hand and planted an orchid. New beginnings. She has since branched out in her studies now that she has less direct blocks in her path, becoming a regular practitioner of the delicate maneuvers needed for glassblowing and the survival techniques needed to hunt in the deeper jungles that lie on the outer edges of Kapoa district. No one can stop her, not her dead and rotting father, and not her darling brother Decha. Her life is hers to live, and nobody can stop her from making her own path. She was made for more, and she'll take it in the end.


Gonna eat you alive

Played by G
Member Info
Joined on: Apr 5 2020
Birthday: Hidden
Posts: 12 (Find All Posts?)
Status: Offline
Last visited: Jul 30 2020, 7:56 AM
Local time: Sep 25 2021 at 1:35 PM
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