[hider=Braelynn][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3c/33/57/3c3357ae8533d6b8ddd737ed4e741dd0.jpg[/img][/center]

[b][[color=Silver]Name[/color]][/b]
[indent]Braelynn Beauregard Ciran[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Alias[/color]][/b]
[indent]Her friends call her B. You can call her Braelynn.[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Affiliation[/color]][/b]
[indent]Mordlind Concorde[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Starting Class[/color]][/b]
[indent]Noble[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Status[/color]][/b]
[indent]House Ciran[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Crest[/color]][/b]
[indent]Minor Crest of Ciran[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Age[/color]][/b]
[indent] 18 [/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Date of Birth[/color]][/b]
[indent] 10th of Radiant Moon, Divine Year 763 (ex: 20th of the Pegasus Moon, Imperial Year 1163).[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Appearance Information[/color]][/b]
[indent]Braelynn has large, brown eyes that seem to have perpetual bags underneath them. Her long nose points away from pouty lips and a sharp chin. Standing at 6 feet 2 inches Braelynn is very talls for most girls or even people her age, and beyond. Her long black hair is always tied in a low ponytail that hangs between her shoulders. Her build is skinny, though it would be difficult for it to be any different. Her uniform is a little too small and usually rides up to show a little of her abdomen. Her sleeved are usually rolled and she wears her pants low, tucked into her boots. [/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Personality[/color]][/b]
[indent]Braelynn is mean, sardonic, sarcastic, and clever. Often quick to make a joke at other's or her own expense, Braelynn struggles with respecting authority, people around her, and herself. She thinks she's smarter than you and acts "over it" in regards to this whole school thing. Like she doesn't even want to be there, even though she tries just as hard as you could expect out of a wannabe soldier. She's had a history with a fiery temper and is usually slow to make friends, even though she wants them.[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Personal History[/color]][/b]
[indent]Braelynn was always a problem child. Granted a crest of House Ciran, Braelynn was immediately thrust into the roles of nobility. Of being humble, kind, generous, of doing her part as an upper echelon in society. This didn't seem to stick, as the tall girl often shoved those smaller than her around. A lot. She got into trouble. A lot. Apparently it was always the other girls and the boys who started it, according to Braelynn, and sometimes it was, but most of the time it really wasn't. Her mother had died when she was 10, and her father was an aloof bureacrat who had a hard time connecting with his daugher who was taller than he was at the age of 16. Strict discipline was usually his answer, though it rarely worked. Braelynn was often away from the house and wandering the streets. One day she got into a particularly nasty street brawl, knocking out two people and coming home with a black eye and sprained knee. Her father had enough. She was an embarassment and needed to straighten up. Pulling some strings, Braelynn was sent to the Officer's Academy with a clean slate.

 [/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Preferred Fighting Style[/color]][/b]
[indent]Lance- Braelynn uses a large, bendy but durable staff adorned with a small spike on one side.[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Equipment[/color]][/b]
[indent]Training Staff, secret journal.[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Learned Spells[/color]][/b]
[indent]N/A[/indent]
[b][[color=Silver]Interests[/color]][/b]
[list]
[*] Drawing
[*] Swimming
[/list]
[b][[color=Silver]Likes[/color]][/b]
[list][*] Creating drawings and other people's art
[*] Alcohol
[*] Badass stuff, like fighting
[*] Being in a position of power
[*] Her staff
[*] Being left alone
[/list]
[b][[color=Silver]Dislikes[/color]][/b]
[list][*]Snobby, aristocratic types
[*] Religious types
[*] Being left alone
[*] Being insulted or otherwise vulnerable[/list][/hider]

Here is my character. Let me know if there are any issues with the lore, I might have missed something. I hope we get some real noble types, eh? Someone needs to whip these ruffians into shape