[h1]Character Listing[/h1]
[list][*][hider=Lady Monica Wellington-Smythe, the Parasol-toting Poet]
[b]Name:[/b] Monica Wellington-Smythe
[b]Title:[/b] Lady
[b]Moniker:[/b] The Parasol-toting Poet
[b]Age:[/b] 34
[b]Race:[/b] Human
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/304236107434819584/408266686651826178/6f62c9d0e9c8d340b1ebe064030ec93e--gothic-steampunk-steampunk-fashion.jpg[/img][/center]
[i]Well, it is an old picture. These days Lady Monica is a fair bit more muscular and her hair is somewhat less strikingly red. Both are changes not everyone would approve of: What need does a proper lady have for muscle ruining her slender frame and why would they allow their hair to be dimmed so? Do not let her know we added this part here, however. One important thing of note is that you'll never see her without a parasol (indoors) or an umbrella (outdoors). Except perhaps in her own room.[/i]

[b]Primary Attribute:[/b] Persuasive
[b]Secondary Attribute:[/b] Dangerous
[b]Connections:[/b][list][*][b]The Masters[/b] - It is only natural for a Londoner to look up to the Masters, the true wielders of power in the Neath. They have graciously given us relative autonomy, and we do owe them for that. Were I asked to, I would not hesitate to stand by their side, no matter the cause.
[*][b]Bohemians[/b] - I am one of the poets within the court of her enduring majesty. What do you think I think of my fellow artists? Those of the Celestial tradition make me wonder about their sanity at times though... we have everything we could ever need right here.
[*][b]Constables[/b] - The guardians of law and order, the hand of the Echo Bazaar and its Masters. It is the ministry of public decency I despise, but other than that they are fine men and women.
[*][b]Criminals[/b] - I have a connection to the underworld and I need no more. For all I care, they can rot in New Newgate.
[*][b]Hell[/b] - They have some interesting forms of art, and I've heard an abstraction may well help one understand the Neath better. I am not too sure if I should trust in their word though. I would be ignorant if I did not know of their connection to Mr. Slowcake though...
[*][b]Revolutionaries[/b] - I may have mentioned rotting in New Newgate a moment ago, no?
[*][b]Rubbery Men[/b] - Ew, keep them away from me.
[*][b]Society[/b] - Now we are talking. I've many friends within the society, as is expected of one residing within the Shuttered Palace. My own entry in the Slowcake's Exceptionals could be more robust, but I nonetheless do have one. That is bound to change however, trust me on that.
[*][b]Church[/b] - I assume they mean well. I do not really know what they have done for London however.
[*][b]Docks[/b] - I do not really visit Wolfstack, ever.
[*][b]The Great Game[/b] - To say I would not have anything to do with the Game would be a lie. To say that what I do would be of little consequence would also be a lie. The game can be played for many sorts of folk or perhaps even just for the game itself. I know where my allegiances lie, as do those who do work with me. Call me a player and leave it at that.
[*][b]Tomb Colonies[/b] - I know the place. I've even visited it once or twice, maybe even thrice? Tough to tell at this point, such a dull locale. But hospitable, make no mistake. They are good people, if a bit stiff.
[*][b]Urchins[/b] - Ugh, they better keep their grubby mittens off me or I do not take responsibility of the swinging arc of my umbrella.
[*][b]Black Ribbon Society[/b] - Hm? Oh, these? Yes, I am a member. There is no sport quite as exhilarating.[/list]

[b]Background:[/b] Technically speaking, Lady Monica (as she prefers to be called) was born on the surface. But that was pretty much it. After but three weeks, London was already below ground. One does not really have memories from such a young age, though she could swear she has seen the real sun and that no poetry can ever compare to its glory and thus whatever Celestials try for is but a sham. Especially the Neath born of the sort. She, in turn, has embraced the new environment to its fullest and despite her loyalty to the spires and Masters of the Bazaar, adopted the style of Nocturnal poetry. And, well, while it is not quite on the Mycologenes level of immodesty, she is not the greatest fan of the Ministry of Public Decency and nor are they a fan of hers. The less racy ones of her works are usually well received by her enduring majesty. You just need to get her to pen one like that first.

When she is not earning her keep (or heading straight for another exile) in the confines of the Shuttered Palace, Lady Monica is most often seen in the establishments of Veilgarden or occasionally a figure with quite a similar appearance might be spotted in Wilmot's End. The Game is played and will be played, though the place is also her chosen duelling ground if given the opportunity to pick. Apart from these places, she is occasionally spotted visiting the Bazaar on business. The only currency she really trusts is, after all, Echoes and pennies. She is often seen in the company of one Renee Bellerose, though the reasons why are unknown to the public.
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