Dextra

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Dextra.jpg
Concept: The bon mot
Apparent Age: 30
Virtue: Charity
Vice: Gluttony

Order: Lumen Society
Path: Acanthus
Legacy: Vox Populi
Status: Herald
Cabal: The Wise Club


Dextra

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OVERVIEW
The flamboyant and lively Dextra is all which Sinister is not: ostentatious, welcome, and laissez-faire, never taking things quite as seriously as everyone else. She adores a good debate in almost any subject, firing off witty bon mots to bring down the stuffy sorts a few pegs. Her carefree (or careless) attitude has won her a few enemies in traditional quarters, and she shrugs off their concern. The Philologos has bigger fish to worry about than the opinions of stuffed shirts who lost any relevance decades ago.

Dextra delivers good news from the Council, frequently wrapped up in her own brand of quirky, frenetic charm. She famously dons zebra print (leggings, pants or skirts) whenever she is on tricky missions involving the elder, conservative cabals or mages of the city. Her “diplomatic attire” ruffles feathers and upsets the status quo, which is exactly the way she prefers.

The rather young Acanthus has a demonstrated interest in street life of the city. She is a consummate supporter of the Fringe Festival and International Book Festivals, throwing herself into their planning committees and kick-off parties with a passion that belies the serious attempts to locate seeds of the Supernal among the mortal population.

Dextra studies Fate and Spirit, as a student of Wallace.

RP HOOKS

  • A supporter of improv and off-kilter theatrical productions.
  • Need tickets to an event? She can get them, without question.
  • She may be blind or possess the worst fashion sense in the Royal Society.
  • Works at The Fringe Cafe a few hours a week.
  • She really likes getting mail, especially postcards and irreverent hats.


DESCRIPTION
  Some women are ageless from the time they're fifteen until they're fifty. Dextra is one of those souls. Maybe twenty, maybe forty, all impish amusement. Short, spiky brown hair frames a face made from the confluence of the British Empire. Warm golden and peach skintone and dark brown eyes give away her foreign heritage, but there's nothing to be done about her impish exterior. A panel of changing earrings runs up her lobes, all short and bright gems, and her makeup is sparing at best; eyeliner and pink lip gloss serve well enough.

 Petite in frame and constantly on the move, it's a wonder she can keep any weight on at all. Her features are delicate and finely formed, given a bit of lean wiriness in agile hands and long limbs. Her turtleneck sweater clings to her torso in all its coltish grace, superimposing half the Union jack down her right side. Horribly bold pants that would give a model pause are not the finest addition: zebra print in electric red on white swizzle down her thin legs, proof the skinny cannot really wear anything they want. Comfy studded boots as good in a club as a fancy theatre are particularly plain by compare. She carries a mobile phone and a messenger bag as a matter of habit. Her ginger-brown scarf is probably for some obscure sports team.


Played by Shannyn Sossamon.

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