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Mafdet is a drinker and Egyptians are known for their wild parties and drunken nights – the night life culture is where Mafdet shines the brightest. She appeals to the crowd, specifically when the minds and bodies of men are taken by alcohol. Generally, you can tell a man’s wealth by the clothing he has on, but anyone with the right tastes can look the part; therefore, the next thing Mafdet will look for is the choice of drink. Beer is a worker man’s drink, while wine is a rich man’s drink and hopefully a man will not buy more than his means – it is hard to act like something you’re not without the coin to back it up. If Mafdet even sees a man drinking a beer, she wouldn’t bother entertaining his advancements – although, a man with wine is a man worthwhile. Mafdet was raised in a poor family, though as a Pleasure Worker she knew what a rich man looked like and she learned their choice of drink. Men are primal beings, there isn’t much complication or means that would make them hard to manipulate - especially when drinking was involved.
Mafdet wore a plaited wig that was adorned with blue beads and hung shy of her breasts, while her body was draped in a white, sleeveless kalasaris though her body could easily be seen through the thin fabric. Mafdet’s face was enhanced with the kohl lining around the lining of her eyes, and powdered green malachite was brushed on her eyes to bring in the brilliance of her hazel eyes. Around her neck she wore a Usekh that was adorned with precious lapis lazuli, rubies, and gold; furthermore, Mafdet displayed her wealth with a matching pair of small hooped earrings of lapis lazuli, then upon her wrists were golden bracelets. Mafdet sat with a nonchalant expression, though she enjoyed the taste of Shedeh wine that touched her heart-shaped lips. Mafdet was not a stranger to people watching, especially between groups of people, both lowly and the wealthy.
Truthfully, Mafdet was waiting for entertainment to fall into her lap, generally she does not have to try to get anyone’s attention, even the wine she continued to sip was given to her by an Egyptian man that hoped for play. Mafdet could find her fun with her lover, Atenotep, but after a while he even becomes boring for the woman. It would probably help to sit in a Tavern she was unfamiliar with, because the one she currently sat in was owned by an ally of her lover. Mafdet rolled her eyes in boredom, before lifting herself up to find someone worthy of expression of any kind.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Mafdet is a drinker and Egyptians are known for their wild parties and drunken nights – the night life culture is where Mafdet shines the brightest. She appeals to the crowd, specifically when the minds and bodies of men are taken by alcohol. Generally, you can tell a man’s wealth by the clothing he has on, but anyone with the right tastes can look the part; therefore, the next thing Mafdet will look for is the choice of drink. Beer is a worker man’s drink, while wine is a rich man’s drink and hopefully a man will not buy more than his means – it is hard to act like something you’re not without the coin to back it up. If Mafdet even sees a man drinking a beer, she wouldn’t bother entertaining his advancements – although, a man with wine is a man worthwhile. Mafdet was raised in a poor family, though as a Pleasure Worker she knew what a rich man looked like and she learned their choice of drink. Men are primal beings, there isn’t much complication or means that would make them hard to manipulate - especially when drinking was involved.
Mafdet wore a plaited wig that was adorned with blue beads and hung shy of her breasts, while her body was draped in a white, sleeveless kalasaris though her body could easily be seen through the thin fabric. Mafdet’s face was enhanced with the kohl lining around the lining of her eyes, and powdered green malachite was brushed on her eyes to bring in the brilliance of her hazel eyes. Around her neck she wore a Usekh that was adorned with precious lapis lazuli, rubies, and gold; furthermore, Mafdet displayed her wealth with a matching pair of small hooped earrings of lapis lazuli, then upon her wrists were golden bracelets. Mafdet sat with a nonchalant expression, though she enjoyed the taste of Shedeh wine that touched her heart-shaped lips. Mafdet was not a stranger to people watching, especially between groups of people, both lowly and the wealthy.
Truthfully, Mafdet was waiting for entertainment to fall into her lap, generally she does not have to try to get anyone’s attention, even the wine she continued to sip was given to her by an Egyptian man that hoped for play. Mafdet could find her fun with her lover, Atenotep, but after a while he even becomes boring for the woman. It would probably help to sit in a Tavern she was unfamiliar with, because the one she currently sat in was owned by an ally of her lover. Mafdet rolled her eyes in boredom, before lifting herself up to find someone worthy of expression of any kind.
Mafdet is a drinker and Egyptians are known for their wild parties and drunken nights – the night life culture is where Mafdet shines the brightest. She appeals to the crowd, specifically when the minds and bodies of men are taken by alcohol. Generally, you can tell a man’s wealth by the clothing he has on, but anyone with the right tastes can look the part; therefore, the next thing Mafdet will look for is the choice of drink. Beer is a worker man’s drink, while wine is a rich man’s drink and hopefully a man will not buy more than his means – it is hard to act like something you’re not without the coin to back it up. If Mafdet even sees a man drinking a beer, she wouldn’t bother entertaining his advancements – although, a man with wine is a man worthwhile. Mafdet was raised in a poor family, though as a Pleasure Worker she knew what a rich man looked like and she learned their choice of drink. Men are primal beings, there isn’t much complication or means that would make them hard to manipulate - especially when drinking was involved.
Mafdet wore a plaited wig that was adorned with blue beads and hung shy of her breasts, while her body was draped in a white, sleeveless kalasaris though her body could easily be seen through the thin fabric. Mafdet’s face was enhanced with the kohl lining around the lining of her eyes, and powdered green malachite was brushed on her eyes to bring in the brilliance of her hazel eyes. Around her neck she wore a Usekh that was adorned with precious lapis lazuli, rubies, and gold; furthermore, Mafdet displayed her wealth with a matching pair of small hooped earrings of lapis lazuli, then upon her wrists were golden bracelets. Mafdet sat with a nonchalant expression, though she enjoyed the taste of Shedeh wine that touched her heart-shaped lips. Mafdet was not a stranger to people watching, especially between groups of people, both lowly and the wealthy.
Truthfully, Mafdet was waiting for entertainment to fall into her lap, generally she does not have to try to get anyone’s attention, even the wine she continued to sip was given to her by an Egyptian man that hoped for play. Mafdet could find her fun with her lover, Atenotep, but after a while he even becomes boring for the woman. It would probably help to sit in a Tavern she was unfamiliar with, because the one she currently sat in was owned by an ally of her lover. Mafdet rolled her eyes in boredom, before lifting herself up to find someone worthy of expression of any kind.
Business was failing, her life was crumbling, and there was nothing Callidora of Almosis could do to stop it.
It had been only weeks since the last time she’d held Skylla in her arms, but it felt like years. Every moment that passed in this dreadful country was a moment too long, and since she’d been separated from her lover, her distaste only grew. In the years she came here with Demetrius, she’d thought of Egypt as a rather beautiful and mysterious place, full of rich culture and vibrant people. But now that she was stuck here without friends, without family…
Egypt was about the last place she wanted to be.
However, there was little that could be done about it. Without Lysander, Dora’s standing in society was basically nonexistent. She was just a woman, and a Greek woman at that, so what did she mean to the rest of Egypt? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She’d tried to remain optimistic when they first got stuck, sure that her business prowess could safely navigate her and Skylla through the choppy waters of Egyptian trade. For a while, it seemed to work. The merchant’s widow still held a few of her husband’s contacts—with their help, she’d built a stand in the market and kept herself supplied. But trade was dwindling as Greece and Egypt hovered on the brink of war; few trusted her enough to buy anything from her. Then, once she and Skylla were separated, and they no longer had two sources of income, however meager…
By now, she was practically destitute. She’d had to move to an even more rundown tavern than the one she’d shared with Skylla, and she slept with a knife under her pillow every night because of it. Dora had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, but it sure helped that strong independence to have someone else backing it up. She was foolish to think she’d ever truly be able to make it on her own.
She was running out of options, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on like this. But even when there was little to be done, there was at least one thing… she could get very, very drunk.
So that’s exactly what she did. Well into her fifth pint of ale, Dora’s vision was swimming. Blinking rapidly to clear her inebriated gaze, the Grecian woman struggled to her feet as the dregs of her ale swished in the bottom of her tankard. “Need another,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed firmly on what she was almost certain was the bar. Now, the fun would come in actually getting there.
It wasn’t often that Dora let herself lose her sensibilities so thoroughly, not since Demetrius passed. Life on a ship for months at a time meant the rum flowed freely, as there was little else to do. But much of the joy in such a pastime had evaporated with her husband. That she let herself get this intoxicated showed just how truly hopeless she felt.
Stumbling toward the bar, she tripped over a jagged board in the floor, sending the remains of her ale flying from her hands and splattering all over the woman at the nearest table—a woman in a blindingly white kalasiris that was soon not so white any more.
Hands flying to her open mouth in horror, Callidora scrambled over to the stranger with stuttered apologies falling from her lips. “Oh gods, I’m so s-sorry,” she slurred as one of the barmaids came scurrying over with a towel. “I… I didn’t see…” Flushed bright red in shame and embarrassment alike, she shook her head. “I can replace the gown, ‘sall my fault…”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Business was failing, her life was crumbling, and there was nothing Callidora of Almosis could do to stop it.
It had been only weeks since the last time she’d held Skylla in her arms, but it felt like years. Every moment that passed in this dreadful country was a moment too long, and since she’d been separated from her lover, her distaste only grew. In the years she came here with Demetrius, she’d thought of Egypt as a rather beautiful and mysterious place, full of rich culture and vibrant people. But now that she was stuck here without friends, without family…
Egypt was about the last place she wanted to be.
However, there was little that could be done about it. Without Lysander, Dora’s standing in society was basically nonexistent. She was just a woman, and a Greek woman at that, so what did she mean to the rest of Egypt? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She’d tried to remain optimistic when they first got stuck, sure that her business prowess could safely navigate her and Skylla through the choppy waters of Egyptian trade. For a while, it seemed to work. The merchant’s widow still held a few of her husband’s contacts—with their help, she’d built a stand in the market and kept herself supplied. But trade was dwindling as Greece and Egypt hovered on the brink of war; few trusted her enough to buy anything from her. Then, once she and Skylla were separated, and they no longer had two sources of income, however meager…
By now, she was practically destitute. She’d had to move to an even more rundown tavern than the one she’d shared with Skylla, and she slept with a knife under her pillow every night because of it. Dora had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, but it sure helped that strong independence to have someone else backing it up. She was foolish to think she’d ever truly be able to make it on her own.
She was running out of options, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on like this. But even when there was little to be done, there was at least one thing… she could get very, very drunk.
So that’s exactly what she did. Well into her fifth pint of ale, Dora’s vision was swimming. Blinking rapidly to clear her inebriated gaze, the Grecian woman struggled to her feet as the dregs of her ale swished in the bottom of her tankard. “Need another,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed firmly on what she was almost certain was the bar. Now, the fun would come in actually getting there.
It wasn’t often that Dora let herself lose her sensibilities so thoroughly, not since Demetrius passed. Life on a ship for months at a time meant the rum flowed freely, as there was little else to do. But much of the joy in such a pastime had evaporated with her husband. That she let herself get this intoxicated showed just how truly hopeless she felt.
Stumbling toward the bar, she tripped over a jagged board in the floor, sending the remains of her ale flying from her hands and splattering all over the woman at the nearest table—a woman in a blindingly white kalasiris that was soon not so white any more.
Hands flying to her open mouth in horror, Callidora scrambled over to the stranger with stuttered apologies falling from her lips. “Oh gods, I’m so s-sorry,” she slurred as one of the barmaids came scurrying over with a towel. “I… I didn’t see…” Flushed bright red in shame and embarrassment alike, she shook her head. “I can replace the gown, ‘sall my fault…”
Business was failing, her life was crumbling, and there was nothing Callidora of Almosis could do to stop it.
It had been only weeks since the last time she’d held Skylla in her arms, but it felt like years. Every moment that passed in this dreadful country was a moment too long, and since she’d been separated from her lover, her distaste only grew. In the years she came here with Demetrius, she’d thought of Egypt as a rather beautiful and mysterious place, full of rich culture and vibrant people. But now that she was stuck here without friends, without family…
Egypt was about the last place she wanted to be.
However, there was little that could be done about it. Without Lysander, Dora’s standing in society was basically nonexistent. She was just a woman, and a Greek woman at that, so what did she mean to the rest of Egypt? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She’d tried to remain optimistic when they first got stuck, sure that her business prowess could safely navigate her and Skylla through the choppy waters of Egyptian trade. For a while, it seemed to work. The merchant’s widow still held a few of her husband’s contacts—with their help, she’d built a stand in the market and kept herself supplied. But trade was dwindling as Greece and Egypt hovered on the brink of war; few trusted her enough to buy anything from her. Then, once she and Skylla were separated, and they no longer had two sources of income, however meager…
By now, she was practically destitute. She’d had to move to an even more rundown tavern than the one she’d shared with Skylla, and she slept with a knife under her pillow every night because of it. Dora had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, but it sure helped that strong independence to have someone else backing it up. She was foolish to think she’d ever truly be able to make it on her own.
She was running out of options, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on like this. But even when there was little to be done, there was at least one thing… she could get very, very drunk.
So that’s exactly what she did. Well into her fifth pint of ale, Dora’s vision was swimming. Blinking rapidly to clear her inebriated gaze, the Grecian woman struggled to her feet as the dregs of her ale swished in the bottom of her tankard. “Need another,” she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed firmly on what she was almost certain was the bar. Now, the fun would come in actually getting there.
It wasn’t often that Dora let herself lose her sensibilities so thoroughly, not since Demetrius passed. Life on a ship for months at a time meant the rum flowed freely, as there was little else to do. But much of the joy in such a pastime had evaporated with her husband. That she let herself get this intoxicated showed just how truly hopeless she felt.
Stumbling toward the bar, she tripped over a jagged board in the floor, sending the remains of her ale flying from her hands and splattering all over the woman at the nearest table—a woman in a blindingly white kalasiris that was soon not so white any more.
Hands flying to her open mouth in horror, Callidora scrambled over to the stranger with stuttered apologies falling from her lips. “Oh gods, I’m so s-sorry,” she slurred as one of the barmaids came scurrying over with a towel. “I… I didn’t see…” Flushed bright red in shame and embarrassment alike, she shook her head. “I can replace the gown, ‘sall my fault…”