Brin

From City of Hope MUSH
Revision as of 19:44, 23 April 2012 by imported>Brin
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“Wind's Four Quarters, Air and Fire.Earth and water, hear my desire. Grant my plea who stands alone. Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone...



Southern wind, blow hot blow hard!
Fan my courage to a flame,
Southern wind, be guide and guard,
Add your bravery to my name.
Let my will and yours be twinned,
Warrior of the Southern Wind!

Overview



RP Hooks

  • If you see anything here that intrigues you, page me. There are stories in the unlikeliest of places.


Dramatis Personae

Eastern Wind

Innocence. Purity.

  • Tabitha - Healer, Cleanser, Friend, and Guide. Maiden. Though purity comes in unusual ways.
Southern Wind

Courage. Strength.

Western Wind

Perseverance. Guidance.

Northern Wind

Wisdom. Death.

Notable Stats

  • Alchemy
Gallery

[[Image:|x175px]] [[Image:|x150px]]

Brinne Acacia O'Briain
[[Image:|280px|center]]
Date of Birth: Not polite to ask.
Apparent Age: 19
Occupation: Parks and Recreation (?)
Demeanor: Celebrant
Nature: Guardian

Soundtrack

Wind's Four Quarters - Heather Alexander

Western wind blow stark, blow strong.
Grant me arm and mind of steel!
On a road both hard and long
Mother, hear me where I kneel.
Let no weakness on my quest
Hinder me, Wind of the West.

Beautiful Ones - Poets of the Fall

Flies with a broken wing, she's ever so graceful,
So like an Angel, but I see,
Tears flow quietly...
The troubles she's seen this spring,
When nothing comes dancing...
Paying a handsome fee, and still she smiles at me...

You're Still Here - Poets of the Fall

Mercury dances in its skyscraper cell,
Rising and falling like rhapsody.
And I see winter's broken like lace,
In time for a celebration...
Thaw wails inside the walls,
And laughs in the corners...
Delighting in its evident victory.

Where Do We Draw The Line? - Poets of the Fall

The dance of flames and shadows in the street
Make poetry nobody's ever heard...
The weight of lonelinesss stands on your feet
The cage already there around the bird.

Rewind - Poets of the Fall

If life itself has a meaning
Is it anything more than what we choose to call it?
Sweet words make appealing,
But they only serve to mask
the smell of what you buried.
Logs
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