|Name Meaning:||'From the Forest's Skies'|
|Date of Birth:||August 2, 2009|
|Subspecies:||Canis lupus familiaris ortus|
|Birth place:||Tampa, Florida|
|Old 'Souls Profile|
|Joining date:||November 1, 2010|
|Most Recent Rank:||Loner|
|Significance:||No Pack Ties|
Cour des Miracles
|Joining date:||November 14, 2009|
|Rank:||Infante, Princess, Seigneur|
|Significance:||Pup, Adolescent, Member|
Sylvie Ciel is a previous member of Cour des Miracles, now a Loner, half-sister to the Cour des Miracles Dauphine, Ruri Aceline, and foster-daughter to Alaine Winters. After Caillen Winters death, she went half mad with grief and very nearly took her own life. With Alaine gone back to Ireland, Caillen dead, and Ruri nowhere to be found, Sylvie has disappeared from 'Souls for the last time; and now walks among the shadows of the spirit world just as much as the real world, lost just as she was when she first washed up on 'Souls beaches.
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Born in rural Florida to a rape victim, Sylvie lived the first three months of her life under the grudging care of the same female that gave birth to blind Ruri Aceline. Though she did not come into the world with the same illness as her half-sister, it is thought that their mother carried the blindness gene, leaving Sylvie to either go blind at an early age, or mother pups with the defective gene. Her early life with her mother and 'foster-father', the collie mother's part wolf mate, was wrought with emotional turmoil for the young whelp, ranging from being sent to herd or catch food for her guardians to being subjected to reversed forms of parental affections. If Sylvie did something wrong, she was blessed with a hug or a kiss, each meaning one sort of physical punishment to be levied upon her once the time was right. If she did something correctly, she was harshly reprimanded for even the slightest thing out of place, but not levied a physical punishment. As a young pup, Sylvie developed a terror for the affectionate displays of hugging, kissing, touching, and even something as simple as a smile, fearing the punishments surely attached to them.
Three months of her life were carried out in this manner, and she lived by the code "eat before eaten", taught to bottle up her emotions in favor of reacting rationally and without biased thought. Her feet were essentially planted firmly in the mud, her mind even farther below the earthen surface, never free to dream or reach for the impossible. Almost mechanical, she was being raised. A tool, usable only as a servant capable of getting her parents whatever they desired. Finally, however, the pair of canines deemed her no longer worthy of keeping, being a bastard child for one, and because she was beginning to question their absolute rule, asking why and what for instead of just doing as she was told. Her mother then grasped the pup by her ruff and took her down to the beach. Sylvie knew a punishment was coming, but for what reason, she knew not.
Her punishment proved to be worse than expected. Her mother stuffed the babe into an old plastic dingy, round and without a suitable top, with no food or water, and set her adrift up the coastline. Sylvie was forced to endure the tossing and wild waves in her makeshift boat, hanging on for dear life as the salty liquid monster swept her into a storm. All she could do was hope and pray that she would wash ashore before she died of starvation or dehydration.
Nearly five days after her dingy was thrown into the ocean, her plastic life raft was thrust ashore onto the beaches of Cour des Miracles. Gravely ill, malnourished, and dehydrated, Sylvie was launched out of the plastic mass and into the cold sand as a winter's night was falling over Nova Scotia. Drained and with no more fight left in her, the lilac border child began hallucinating, closing crying eyes to the demonic presences dancing around in the trees nearby. Alaine Winters, a budding healer confined to the Chien Hotel, a creaking old building up on a bluff above the beach, had followed a sixth sense feeling to the soaked, frosted sands, finding Sylvie as she lay weakly in the sand dunes. The cream and ivory shea snapped up the babe by the ruff and rushed her back to the Hotel, where she began to truly hallucinate, screaming and crying for protection from black-eyed beasts and fanged furies, crying for her lost mother and the punishment she was sure to receive in tandem with being carried around. Jacquez Trouillefou, the King of Cour des Miracles at the time of her arrival, had come into the Hotel in order to levy his verdict on Alaine's presence, and instead was roped into giving up his brandy in an effort to save the fevered child.
He reluctantly handed over the drink to the healer, and found himself seeing something familiar in the child. Something about her, though he could not put his finger on it, something reminded him of his blind companion, Ruri, though he never mentioned anything about it. Sylvie survived the evening thanks to Alaine's patient and careful work with the exhausted and ill child, and eventually blossomed into a happy, healthy puppy alongside Alaine's own child, Caillen Winters, also sick when Sylvie arrived. Like moths to a flame, the pair became nigh inseparable, helping one another to grow and heal from their diseases. Eventually, the two pups became well enough to warrant learning how to hunt, how to clean animals and pick out the choice meats, how to survive on their own. A protective mother, Alaine always kept a close eye on the two whelps... at least, until Sylvie began to stray away from her.
A few weeks after her harrowing ordeal, the pup traveled a mile south along the shores, stumbling upon miss Ruri Aceline, a blue merle collie-mix. The woman looked so like her mother, that Sylvie rushed up to her and promptly settled herself into her lap, asking wildly why she had been thrown into the ocean, why she was left alone, why the woman was there now, but hadn't come to see her... After a little while, Ruri had to tell the child that she was not her mother, breaking the lilac babe's heart as she slipped into sorrowful french words. After gleaning a bit more information from the sorrowful whelp, Ruri discovered that they pair not only had come from the same place, but from the same mother. Sylvie had a half-sister. And not just any half-sister, but the Dauphine of her new home, a very important person to the outcome of the pack. Days after this encounter, the whelp took it upon herself to check out the stables, and met up with Heath morte dre soul, Ruri's love interest, and promptly flooded the coy-dog with questions about the stables, the animals, and if she could learn to ride a horse. After a rather... intriguing conversation, the Coy-dog decided to teach the little border collie to ride horses once Optime form became available to her, and also gave her the option of watching the livestock in the territory. Enthralled with this prospect, the young girl decided to wait until she was old enough to take up this responsibility. Explorations continued as Sylvie and Caillen grew over the months following, one including a trip out to the stables with no one's knowledge. Alaine taught the pair well, despite any escapades following lessons- like a run-in with a snake one day.
Months passed, leadership shifted alongside the decision on with whom the pack would side with during the newly begun Second Dahlian War. Sylvie began to drift farther and farther away from her home following this event, having grown to nearly seven months of age in such a short time. Eventually...
She disappeared from the packlands altogether.
A young teen out to prove herself independent, free from the shackles of war-bound packs and stressful family ties to highly ranked members of the ocean-side group, Sylvie was glad to go... for a time. Eventually, the whelp took to playing a gypsy, traversing the land alongside and without a sect of gypsy Luperci she stumbled upon after taking her leave. Months passed in this manner as Sylvie matured more and more, filling out a figure sure to draw gazes from nearly every male she came across. Preforming elaborate dances, beautiful songs, and plays alongside the wandering group of Luperci, Sylvie thought her life could not get any better. On top of doing something she loved, she was being rewarded with lovely gifts of metal jewelry and unusual trinkets, cogs and springs, food, clothing, and other things those they preformed for had picked up. Intrigue in the extinct human civilization sparked in the then year old babe, and she struck out from the gypsy caravan to visit places known for their human influences, continuing to perform for small groups if she could be persuaded. Her knowledge of Human civilization and artifacts flourished and expanded, soaking in the rich explanations for each and every trinket like an excited sponge.
Eventually, however, her method of garnering these trinkets lead to a terrible fate. One particularly persuasive customer promised a gift she had never heard of before he produced it. A lovely piece of fantastic design, the 'music box' was adorned by an alabaster carved grassy scene, centered with two white doves crossed in a loving embrace, singing to the world when it was wound up. Determined to get the beautiful treasure, she agreed to dance and sing for the male… and soon found herself in a situation she had not anticipated. Her innocence was snatched away from the vastly matured female, taken with her belongings in exchange for her life. Raped and left unconscious, bleeding from wounds sustained in her initial resisting, Sylvie awoke to everything she had gathered missing. Her pack of supplies, the trinkets she had been paid with... everything but her tattered dress, discarded as worthless, and the metal anklet still around her slim leg was gone, lost to the male and his lustful tendencies. Four perfect, clean pink lacerations tore across the back of her neck, the only visible remnant of the terrible encounter, achieved when the lustful bastard had sunk his claws into her mane to prevent her escape. Folding her dress up, it took the form of her old bandanna- what she had worn constantly as a child- and tied it around her neck again, hiding the injuries from view. She never performed for anyone again in the following months, instead preferring to ask about the items they had. Some willingly gave them to her, others refused, but would give the curious collie information about the piece in question.
Her knowledge grew once more, and with it went her need to travel. The more she learned, the less there was to learn, and so the less she traversed the lands. Eventually, the matured damsel collie decided it was time, once again, to make an appearance in the lives of her beloved family. She began by re-establishing herself in the packs of ‘Souls, questioning which she would most like to settle into, before traversing again to the shores of Cour des Miracles, where she met up once again with the now grown Amaranth and later with her adopted mother, Alaine, the victim of a tragedy. Nursing her ailing foster mother back from the brink of mental and physical demise, Sylvie began bearing the burden of Alaine's news about her miscarried pups, Caillen's leave, and her transgressions with the golden Loner, Daisuke. The pair of collie women were visited a week later by a vastly angered Caillen, screaming about his mother betraying him by sleeping with the Golden Dragon. After a heated spat, the nightmare consumed dreamer stormed out, chased by Sylvie with hopes of settling this fairly. After all... how could he deny his mother the ability to love another? Such a thing seemed impossible for the logic-driven young woman as she confronted the male with calm, less biting words this time around, and was rewarded with calmer words in turn. Eventually, they finally went their separate ways, Caillen doing just as he said and leaving for awhile.
Caillen and Sylvie reunited and at last confessed their feelings for one another... but before anything could come of it, her dreamer was murdered- and her life was over.
Sylvie began as a brilliant, but gruff child, awkward in body and awkward in mind. She flinched whenever Alaine hugged her, expecting the lovely young woman to backhand her for doing something incorrect, bottled her emotions into whatever she was capable of creating to hold them, and thought Caillen to be the strangest, most likely to get eaten by an alligator child she had ever met. His tendency to dream and weave wild tales of damsels and dragons, knights and quests, or superheroes and villains left the sheltered young girl in a startled stupor. What need did she have for such frivolity? What did she always do wrong that kept making Alaine hug her or hold her? Socially inept but physically adept, Alaine had her work cut out for her with Sylvie at this stage.
As she aged from a pup to a yearling, Sylvie matured still more, grasping the meanings behind things she thought ridiculous or frivolous in a more normal society, seeing how relationships truly worked, and realizing that dreams were just as important as realities. Her fear of being hugged or held slowly subsided, until she finally stopped flinching and began to return the gestures, understanding the importance of affectionate reactions such as these. She became more and more independent, wandering farther and farther away from the Chien Hotel until she finally was lost to the wanderlust, leaving her family behind to constantly worry about her safety. Taking them for granted, Sylvie always believed Alaine and Caillen would be there for her, no matter how long she was gone.
Her fight with Caillen brought on a new level of understanding, shedding light upon just what taking someone for granted did to them. Her feelings for Caillen solidified into a continuously denied love, and she no longer feels awkward when presented with an affectionate action, though she has the occasional tendency to be unsure of how she should react properly. Her relationship with Alaine strengthens as her foster mother gladly welcomed her back with open arms, and Sylvie's guilt for leaving Alaine alone for so long sowed a seed of loyalty into the young girl she never truly had before. With Alaine as her rock and Caillen as her teacher, Sylvie's emotional state finally reached a pinnacle, breaking loose the bottle of emotional turmoil and smashing it into the ground to explode among the lot. She has really grown over the course of her lifetime thus far.
The Cour des Miracles Apothecary, Alaine had only recently been accepted into the sea-side pack after attempting to steal a calf from them. On house arrest in the Chien Hotel at the time, it was Alaine that braved the frigid weather and grabbing darkness to reach the beach that fateful night, and pluck Sylvie from the frozen sands of the beach. Since that eve, Alaine has been a highly regarded female in Sylvie's book, only to be reinforced when the ivory and cream shea killed a snake Caillen and Sylvie had located during a hunting lesson. After Sylvie left, she felt bad about abandoning the one she had begun to think of as mother, and upon her return, was startled to find that the woman cared not that she had been gone. With open arms Alaine had accepted Sylvie back into her life, despite having nearly reached the brink of destruction in her own. They have a bond that more than matches the mother/daughter love seen regularly. It goes a lot deeper than that- to the point of having nearly the same scars both physically and mentally. They match up on levels difficult to comprehend normally.
A childhood friend, foster sibling, and object of every affection capable of the desocialized collie girl, Caillen is the merle-pelted wolfdog son of Alaine. Sylvie absolutely adores, and yet absolutely cannot stand being around, the once gentle dreamer, a giant in all proportions physically and mentally. Cai and Sylvie had a relationship that bordered on real, true love for the vast majority of their childhood, manifesting in childlike crushes and adorable puppy love. Sylvie's leave, both the first time and the second, longer one, broke Caillen's heart and tore Sylvie's in two. Both warped from their prior personas as children, with Caillen growing down to the earth from his place in the clouds, and Sylvie experiencing still more to keep her unsure of those dreamy eves she once spent with the giant male. Their latest meeting ended in a complete verbal brawl, with the pair separating once again to lick the invisible wounds caused by the dagger sharp words they had thrown at one another. Things aren't looking to be in their favor, though deep down it is obvious they both still care very deeply for one another... their injured hearts and bruised prides are just getting in the way.
The only blood relative Sylvie knew of upon reaching 'Souls. Though only her half-sister, Sylvie looks strikingly similar to Ruri in body type and facial shape, though in most other aspects they couldn't be more different. Sylvie is a touch more willowy than her lovely blind sibling, and unlike Ruri, she never had a friend that took care of her as Jacquez had Ruri. They have a somewhat light relationship, having spent small amounts of time together as Sylvie was being raised by the Cour des Miracles Apothecary, Alaine. With Sylvie's leave, they drifted apart, and Sylvie is only recently learning that her sister has children, having met her young niece only a short while ago.
- Height: 22 in (56 cm)
- Weight: 35 lbs (16 kg)
- Length: 44 inches (112 cm)
- Height: 33 in (84 cm)
- Weight: 145 lbs (66 kg)
- Length: 48 inches (122 cm)
- Height: 5 ft 6 in (162 cm)
- Weight: 155 lbs (70 kg)
Prefers Optime form.
-Sylvie pelt Reference. By Alaine.
Sylvie is the bastard child of a blue merle border collie and her chocolate ‘mate’. She is a medium coat border collie, lilac and white in colouration. Lilac is, in short, a dilute chocolate color, similar to a sandy brown or tan, though in the right light it actually appears to be a shade of lilac. Her base coat then, is lilac, with white shaded socks, underbelly (but not throat), nape, muzzle, and tail tip. Her right ear is also dabbled white. All four limbs are white socked, then banded with a darker shade of lilac, before fading back into white again. Sylvie does not have a full white ruff around her neck- instead, there is a patch of white just behind her neck, which slips into a necklace of lilac, and then continues at her chest.
The white marking upon her slim muzzle trails up onto her forehead and forms a slightly misshapen heart, before the right side spills onto her right ear while trailing the rest of the way down her cranium to meet with her white ruff. This muzzle marking does not trail down into the white of her chest- rather, another band of lilac separates the two. The end of her slightly bushy tail also is white. Soft, cute nose is a light brown colour, simply a darker shade of her dilute chocolate coat. Her back marking is a classic saddle shape, covering her shoulders and trailing down to a patch of dark lilac upon the top half of her tail and just over her rump.
In optime form, Sylvie's mane becomes wild and untamed, spiky, yet fluffy soft, and trails from the base of her ears to her shoulders and chest, while bangs, tamed and smooth, adorn her forehead, carefully woven sunshine gradienting from her light lilac base coat to white tipped ends. She stands straight, more evenly distributing her weight over the balls of her feet, and is blessed with an overall grace befitting a dancer.
Slender, slim. These are the sorts of words best used to describe Sylvie's Optime form. Though shorter than the vast majority of wolven Luperci, the purebred border collie shea is far more willowy than they are, an exotic dancer with the soul of an ancient. She is like a jackal or a coyote in her size and shape, blessed with smaller, pert breasts and a softly curved, becoming figure. She is built for speed, not battle, and in the event of a war would likely be a befitting scout, small but quick, light but lithe.
Her eyes are a rich, beautiful purple. A melting pot of purples, her beautiful eyes pool as a dark, rich violet at the pupil, and spill outwards in a lightening gradient, until the edges of her iris are a gentle lilac. A ring of dark purple outlines the iris, making the other shades more prominent against the dark background.
Sylvie has four long, thin scars along the ruff of her neck, hidden beneath the white spikes in optime, but bearing their cruel appearance in canine and secui forms as if they had been achieved only days prior.