Antoinette

Revision as of 00:41, 29 April 2013

Fighter Information

Name: Antoinette AEsa Halla Finnrsdottir
Actual Name: Kayla Harris
Gender: Female
Realm: Thunder Guard, Honorary Member of Malkier
Unit: The Order Fighting Style: Non-Combat, Medic
Army: Northern alliance
House: Order of Tecmessa-She Who Judges

Other Information

• President of Thunder Guard 2011-Present
• Named "Cooking All-Star" at Snowball 2011
• Was presented with the Order of the Raised Goblet by Sir Par are Armageddon XI(2012)
• Belted member of the Order of Tecmessa Octoberfest 2012 by Lady Feri
• Was a member of [[[Clan of the Hydra]] from October 2011-March 2013
• Has a little brother who is a monster...also has a number of other family members who are monsters, but also some pinkies in there too!!
  

Events Attended In Person

• Giants Awakening 2010, 2012
• Octoberfest 2010, 2011, 2012
• Snowball 2010, 2011
• Armageddon 2011, 2012

Events Attended Digitally

• Wolfpack Opener 2013

First Aid Training

Antoinette had been trained by the Canadian Red Cross. She comes to practices with a fully stocked first aid kit that includes Band-Aids of all sizes to arm slings and more gauze then a normal kit. It also has polysporin and disinfectant wipes as well as an instant cold pack and non-aspirin pain relievers, sugar pills and a copy of her certifications. She has certificates in Standard First Aid, Sports First Aid, Level C (Adult, Child, Infant) CPR and is AED (automated external defibrillator)certificated.

Lore

Blog where you can find my lore : http://antoinettesfashions.tumblr.com/

I was born to a mother who adored me, and a father who wanted a son. My mother was strong for eight years, despite 3 stillbirths, and one boy who lived only a week. Arne, Folkvar, Sindri and Astridr, these were my little brothers and sister. She was strong for years, but after so much my mother, she stopped trying, and left for the domain of Hel, Keeper of the Dead. My father, whom I had never seen weep before, wept tears of sorrow and grief for my mother, for his lost sons, and even for his lost daughter. I was eight when my mother died.

Many believed that my father would remarry. He never did. It was proof that the love he bore my mother was deep and lasted beyond death. He resigned to the fact he would not have a son, that I would be his solo legacy on earth. He started to teach me things. I learned to hunt to feed myself, I learned to forge weapons. He did never teach me how to wield a sword, but I learned how to make them, for that was what my father did. He was a swordsmith by trade. My father went from being the man who lived in the house with us, to being my father. I loved him and he loved me. At least I thought he did when I was almost ten.

I remember it being a horribly cold day, a day where I would have never left my home unless it was extremely dire. I was sitting by the hearth, card-weaving a new trim for a tunic my father asked me to make for him when I heard the cries of a child, a small one, from outside. I wrapped myself in all the warmth I could find. I looked like every beast with fur as I walked out the doors looking for the source of the cry. I wasn’t even out of sight of my home when I saw, a child, he looked about three. He was small, underdressed and pale. I knew I couldn’t just leave him, so I picked him up and I brought him home. I found on him a note. It read, “This child is called Kodite.” I was just barely ten when I brought Kodite home.

My mother, before she walked towards the domain of Hel, Keeper of the Dead, she taught me of Forseti, the God of Justice and Truth. She taught me that everything you do in life should be done lawfully, truthfully and with honor. She told me that if I wanted to be a daughter of Forseti, I must always seek justice, I must never lie, and I must always seek to help others in every way that I could. Because of this, I could not leave a child out in the cold. I could not see this child, the one called Kodite die in the cold. I vowed to convince my father to take in this child as his own. I would give him the son that he always wanted. It would not be easy, but I was a very determined at ten years old.

My father, he told me once that I had given him everything in life that a daughter could give a father. I remember that because it was the day he met Kodite. We determined that Kodite was not from around here. He was much too thin, much too pale and he spoke oddly. My father kept him anyway. I had a little brother. He told us that he was three when he finally spoke after we took him in. I smiled, I always wanted a sibling. I went right to making him proper clothing, and teaching him how to speak our language. My father was so happy; he could not wait to teach Kodite the things that a father teaches a son. He promised not to forget about me, and he never did. Again at ten years old I adored my father.

Years past and Kodite grew; despite my best attempts to fatten him up he was always thin. He was always cold as well. Father and I determined that he must have been from somewhere warm. Father always talked about these warm places when he came back from raids and journeys with the other men. He always brought me back something pretty. Much of my beads, my brooches, and other fancy things were gifts from my father. I knew where they had come from and I accepted that it was a part of my culture and there was nothing wrong with that. The item I hold most dear is a string of amethyst that was gifted to me by a very close friend. I will always cherish it, though I understand not his way of life, nor his religion, I will always look upon him fondly. He once saved me from a great flood. I was growing into a young woman and my brother into a young man. I watch him sword fight with father. When I was seventeen I had everything in life I could ask for.

My personal symbol is a Celtic knot version of the Norse tree of life, called Yggdrasil. It is the giant mythological Tree that holds together the Nine Worlds or realms of existence of Norse Mythology . According to mythology Yggdrasil is where the god Odin hung upside-down for nine nights in order to obtain the Rune Alphabet. Beneath the roots of the World Ash lies the spring, Mimir, to which Odin sacrificed an eye to gain wisdom. To me it represents the way people from many places can come together for a common goal. It also represents leaning and wisdom.

A Photo of Antoinette, Chiron Bearshirt and Lyudamyla from Snowball 2010