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Eleanor Pettigrew

Played by Bookworm

Amor Fati

  • vPiTC0W.png
    "Look at you, comforting others with the words you wish to hear.”

    Name: Eleanor Pettigrew.
    Bynames: Ellen or Nellie.
    Age: Early-to-mid thirties.
    Gender: Cisgender female.
    Race: Human, Caucasian.
    Height: Five ft, seven in.
    Weight: 112 lbs, 50.8 kg.     		Laterality: Right-side inclined.
    Orient: Bisexual, in self-denial.
    Status: Single, currently content.
    Class: Low-born; modest to poor.
    Merit: Strong sense of devotion.
    Flaw: Pure of heart, naive in mind.
    Face Claim: Lily-Rose Depp.

    "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–”

    – Turbulent Defender | Companion | Phlegmatic | Neutral Good –

    Adults Only – Multi-Paragraphs – Proper Grammer & Spelling – RP Collaborative
  • Aspirations:
    • Enjoying life to the fullest til the end.
    • Ensuring the happiness of her family.
    • Finally vanquishing her internal demons.
    • Finding the one who will be her other half.
    • Fulfilling her purpose in this life.
    • Guiding the lost to the correct path.
    • Improving herself for the better.
    • Making a difference in society.
    • Settling down in the countryside.
    • To find paradise after her demise.
    Likes:
    • Children, no matter age nor size.
    • Dolls of all varieties; cloth to ceramic.
    • Enclosed spaces paired with a quilt.
    • Flowers; growing or preserving.
    • Poetry & stories of classical romance.
    • Listening to voices speak holy text.
    • Shiny baubles, curiosities, & trinkets.
    • Small animals, primarily birds or bats.
    • Various types of tea, quite sweetened.
    • Witnessing people laugh & smile.
    Dislikes:
    • Being touched without her consent.
    • Clutter within her living space.
    • Defacement of artwork or literature.
    • Failing those important to her.
    • Finding herself caught off-guard.
    • Outrageous displays of opulence.
    • People with dogmatic mindsets.
    • Those who follow their impulses.
    • Vulgarity in all shapes & forms.
    • Wasting of precious commodities.
    Fears:
    • Acrophobia, fear of immense heights.
    • All things considered maledictory.
    • Being in the center of a large crowd.
    • Fire that cannot be controlled.
    • Having no meaning in her life.
    • Harm upon those closest to her.
    • Loud noises such as thunderstorms.
    • Prolonged silence in total darkness.
    • The damnation of her mortal soul.
    • To be alone for the rest of her life.
    Skills:
    • A tireless, dedicated worker.
    • Admirer of the flower language.
    • Devout follower of her faith.
    • Educated, however restricted.
    • Enthusiast watcher of the wildlife.
    • Knowledgeable of basic first aid.
    • Patient to the point of a fault.
    • Possessing of a green thumb.
    • Skilled in sewing & embroidery.
    • Well-informed in sign language.
    Pastimes:
    • Crafting fresh or pressed floral art.
    • Dollmaking in cloth, needle, & thread.
    • Feeding birds with crumbs or seed.
    • Gathering trinkets for her collection.
    • Performing rituals to keep evil at bay.
    • Sewing gifts for friends or loved ones.
    • Swimming in lakes, rivers, & wetlands.
    • Tending to the flowers in her garden.
    • Volunteering for a cause or charities.
    • Writing letters to herself or a pen-pal.
  • A low murmur reverberates throughout the space of the drawing room. The voice soft and light, the words barely audible to an untrained ear, as prayers are spoken within the enclosed space. One may but shift their gaze to find its source – for tucked away in a small alcove can a young woman be found, kneeling before a home alter. Hands clasped together with stone beads intertwined amidst slender fingers. The head once bowed in reverence would soon rise as she rose to her feet. One hand smoothed out her skirt whilst the other returned the length of rosary around her neck, eyes of obsidian turning towards the observer finally. A smile filled with warmth came across her lips, a shade of rose rising to the front of her cheeks for being surprised by a guest, as she bids welcome to a newcomer into her presence – sharing that her name is Eleanor Pettigrew – and desires nothing more than to converse with the individual who sought her out.

    It is an undeniable fact that there lies a sense of delicacy in the face of Eleanor – who is fondly referred to by the pet names of either Ellen or Nellie to those who know her intimately. The words soft and dainty easily can come to one’s mind, a description akin to a glass figurine. With a triangular shape of face, she is gifted with natural high cheekbones that allow an angular angle to the cheeks and jawline. But with the accents of a slender nose and straight brow, one is more likely gain the impression of a demure damsel rather than a pouting nymphet. Downturned lips seem to always hold a gentle smile that reflects the glowing warmth held within a soulful gaze framed by long, dark lashes. Some have compared her stare to obsidian glass, set into almond sockets, as the irises are a deep brown, near black depending on the surrounding light. They are only highlighted by the soft, off black hair that sits atop of her head, styled depending upon the occasion.

    Regarding the likes of Eleanor, one will observe that she is a woman of slight stature. A willowy body – consequence of a sheltered upbringing – with slender appendages attached to an hourglass frame. She is fortunate to be blessed with such a figure, as her bosom is ample and thighs are full, a perfect combination for a woman with hopes for childbearing. With that stated – Ellen is nothing short of being meticulous in regard to her state of person. After all, as the proverb is written, 'cleanliness is next to godliness.'. It is an ordinary occurrence that she baths, two if it has been an especially rough day; scrubbing every inch of warm ivory flesh to the point it turns pink from the effort and washing her hair with milk and water before brushing the strands more than twenty strokes. After which, her nails are kept trimmed in an oval shape and polished to a smooth surface – mindful to always use lotion to maintain the soft, smooth skin upon her slim hands.

    Due to her background, Eleanor finds herself most content in attire that is modest in appearance. High collar, long sleeve; discreetly concealing her flesh from the wandering gaze. Every article of clothing in her possession is humble in making – either pre-owned, inexpensive, or crafted by her own hand. She does not pay much mind to this due to a frugal mentality, preferring to save what money she earns for the essentials in life. Ellen is most drawn to colors that are subdued, as she finds that it is easier to blend into the background with an earthy color scheme or a dark monochromatic palette. To note, not being one for outward displays of wealth, Eleanor does not have many pieces of jewelry within her collection of attire. The only exception to an accessory that will be a certainty of being on her person is a length of red stone prayer beads, commonly wrapped around the wrist or hand, even about the neck.

    The soothing aroma of a violet's leaves and petals with a hint of amber and oud clings on her skin; lingering behind faintly whenever she exits a room – walking softly with subtle, small strides with back straight, head forward, hands clasped neatly in front of the waist. Striving to remain composed no matter the circumstance. However, Eleanor is known to display peculiar mannerisms that might give one the impression that she is not quite in control of her emotions despite the strictly maintained mien. Many instances will the woman mutter quietly under her breath – the words prayers for guidance or her own private personal musings – with the action paired with the toying of prayer beads that are found on her being: either pressing them to her lips or twirling them between her fingers. When without them, however, Eleanor will be content with clasping her hands together so that she feels grounded during trying times. Resorting to the excessive picking at the nails.

    Hidden beneath the demure style of attire, however, lies a secret not many are privy to. While a pious, dutiful woman for all intents and purposes – she believes sin weighs heavily upon her soul. It is because of these overwhelming feelings that Ellen seeks repentance through the means of dedicated prayer, and self-abasement. The bruising and scrapping upon the knees are a common occurrence – from where she will spend hours, on hours repeating words of devotion until her very body goes numb. This is only followed by the lasting impression of prayer beads set within the palms of her hands, where they themselves act as a reminder of fretful fidgeting. What is the worst treatment the woman will place onto herself is the art of self-flagellation – in which she assaults her own person so that she may be closer to some holy deity. It is a sad sight to witness, yet a curious thing. One might suspect that the little lamb enjoys the agony. Almost as if... It makes her feel alive.