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Rinikia Tsui (Reenee-Ka Tsoo-ee) Human Bardess and Portrait Smith 5'4 Green eyes Reddish and orange shades of hair Fair skin, with chins that pinks during harsh winters Favorite color - Blues, Yellows and Oranges Favorite food - Juices, teas, salads and fruits. Hobby - Drawing, Exploring, Seeking and Writing. Likes flowers. Dislikes undeads. Fears them deathly. Rinika's Bio (Rinika steps on a chair, grinning joyfully, not too sure of her balance thought..) I am originary from tha IceMule, more precisely from them streets. Urchin I was, as many folks in dese landings are, and most of my history and my childhood was made from stealth, hiding, freezing, diseases, pain and utter loneliness. Thus, I have no real story, as a story made of treads of pain and tears isn't a story worth told if one does not learned from it. I only started learning late in my life, learning else thing than pain, anger and bitterness. I started learning and maturing as I made friends. Of course, poverty in the streets of Icemule is not an easy thing, as many dies out by night during the harsh and cold summer nights (yes, even in summer...). With nothing to eat and no place to sleep, your best alternative is to join up with other lonely lasses with wich you may band up in a stronger, warmer force to assure our survival. But these groupings rarely made friends, more oftenly enemies. But only once did I make friends, ey. Thought, most of them are all dead today. Us crawlers from the depths of the society never seem fortunate about death and Godly deeds. Once I made friends. I was about 12 at that time, and getting used to the ways of the streets, going as I could, living of what poorly scribbles I could make, keeping at warm my sanity by the same time. We were six in all, and the other bands of the streets feared us, for we would let nothing stand in our path. Nothing, as we were all we had, much like some family. A very special one. There were Gion, the thinker and the chieftain of our group. His 'sister' Lietheli, once the daughter of some high-placed man. Jurek, the ugly halfling, truly ugly, but resourceful and lawful to his affiliations. Durem, the strong-eyed. Harsh, rash and often violent man, the one I cringed at. Then there was Muglah, the young Drunkard Drwarven Girl, who thought she was a pirate. Rude, loud-mouthed, gross and irreverent, Muglah is not the girl you want to flirt with on a booze night. Though, her loyalty to her friends is absolute, despite her bad habits and her Zelian-esque sides. She also had dis capability to heal some bruise and frost bites, which made her precious at time. More resistant to cold, she was more than often designed for guard when others were aslumber. Though, we never knew if what kept her up was ale or pure anger. I always thought it was both. Lastly there was me. Too cowerly to be of any real uses, trying as I could to bring some silvers to the group, but more than often not. I still believe that if I survived with them, it was because of Muglah's attentions... We survived on our abilities, on sharing and on our friendship. We had little use for others, and we had very strict politics when dealing with 'strangers'. We mainly stuck into calmer regions of Icemule, wandering from the magical Burrow to the Temple burrow, never or rarely getting close to the center. Life was easier, better, warmer, and together we forged a friendship that helped us mature as glance at the future with more hope than we even did. But as we became autonomous the conflicts we slowly breaking us apart. The more we got , the more conflicts erupted, mainly between Gion and Durem, on nearly every subjects. I always thought it was a love affair between Durem and Leitheli that got Gion mad at Durem, but no one ever spoke word of it, even less of it, as I and Muglah were the only truly neutral parts in this battle. On some night, things got so bad, they started to fight amongst themselves. Gion took Durem, Leitheli was giving Jurek a hard time, as he has been always grateful to Durem for protecting him. I stood watching. Muglah wasn't there that night in particular, but i dont think that her presence would have had any effects on this outcome. The night ended with Durem's death, and the shattering of our alliance. Gion ran in the night, never to be seen again. Leitheli searched and seeked for nights and nights for him, but she vanished some day. Only later did I find her corpse, on the path to Wehnimer's Landing. I heard Gion died as well, but I never verified. Jurek wandered on his own way, unaware of the grim fate he would find later in the streets. Muglah and I were the only ones standing together, alone. Yet, these events had made iron around our heart, and for a while, we preferred to be each on our own... Death is a weird thing, even more when she seem to walk across you so often. Then one day, something wonderful happened. I discovered that I had a sister. Thus, I had a family, somewhere. Or so I thought. I took me time to realize it, as the poor lass was struck with some insanity and diseases, which eventually took our her life. But in the mists of this, I had the chance to speak with her sanely, thus having glimpse of who I was, and where I came from. A tiny glimpse. All I know now is that my parents moved often from a city to another for some reasons, and that Hayan- the true name of my sister, as she wore many- was on a quest to seek healing from her mental prison. In her presence I found enough strenght and motivation to move on, and upon her death, I followed the trail to Wehnimer's Landing in quest for relatives to my sister, that might just have known her better than me. What truly struck anger and fear into me was the fact that Hayan was insane for no apparent reasons. I could never find if her insanity was either from Zelian or Sheruvian origins, which is, to me, a terifying thing, for an insanity coming from nowhere is without a cure. I fearedm as still fears, to be brought down by the twisted lances of insanity, like my sister did. I did not really shed any tears her death thought. Rather had I found a rage in my heart, some immovable will to survive, to break tides, to fend off the winds, to crack open the lands. If I had to dig a hole in the moon with my very hands, this invisible frustrated rage would allow me to do it. All the rest came along, and I learned to become an artist, a portraitist and a Bard. Having found a mother and a foster family was purely coincidal and completely inesperate, like a gift from whatever Gods where watching dis little speck that I am. Now, I wish nothing more than to follow my path, to crack up the mysteries of my past and the world, and to perform my arts along the way. The rest of my wounds, I've thrown them away, as they are no longer of any uses to me. (Rinika steps down from a chair in a happy hop, and smiles at you cheerfully) 'You know to play 'Hunters Hiders'? Dis pretty much like Hide and seek...' ________________________ Rinika 'Ring' Tsui   Rinika is a fundamentaly bipolar character. Though childish, she has a lot of premature experience. She can be as mature as she can be Child-like and needy. She lives mainly for her Art, her friends and her personnal quests. She hides her anger behind a heavy curtain of happiness and Joy, this anger serving her as some sort of fuel to her survival. She is mildly scholarized, meaning that she can read, write and compose music, but wont count more than 10 (or eleven-one...). She possess a strong accent, one she picked from the locals of IceMule Trace. I see her as an Overgrown adult, her sensitivity and emotions wobbling between mature experience and childish desperate need for cares. My approach at her is mainly of a creative person, trying to remain whole to herself, despite seeming often confused or naïve. She understands most things, she only doesn't know how to deal with them. Thus, she's very shy in public... most of the time. But she knows how to conquer some of her fears. Some.