Lydia
'Hope is passion for what is possible' - Soren Kierkegaard
Originally from Canada, Lydia has somehow made her way in a rather long trip from Montreal to Vancouver and now to Los Angeles, seeking her next big adventure. In her mortal seeming, she's a perennial drifter, living off of busking, playing small gigs as an independent musician, and taking on a few menial jobs here and there. It doesn't make her a lot of money, but usually all she needs is enough to get her a bus ticket to whatever place is next, since she tends to end up crashing with various lovers and new friends.
In her fae seeming, she is a Knight-Errant of the House Fiona, dedicated to love, passion, and hope. She has been traveling from court to court for the last year or more after a messy falling out with the Baroness who knighted her in the first place back in the Duchy of Many Rivers. She's a problem solver. Chimerical beasty need slaying? Need someone to go on a quest? Fight for you in a tournament? She'll do it all with a smile and genuine enthusiasm. She gives her name as 'Lydia Laflamme' to those who ask.
Mortal:
- Music - Makes a living playing small gigs or busking, usually playing the mandolin and singing.
- Sporty - She loves all kinds of athletics and can be found at several pick up or rec games around town.
- Party Girl - Constantly hitting the clubs of all types.
- HEMA - New in town, but immediately went to sign up at the local club, where she spends a lot of time swinging around swords and spears.
Changeling:
- On Errantry - A knight-errant, she makes herself available to aide in whatever may trouble you! Handy with sword and spear alike, she'll happily take on a quest or task as long as it might foster a bit of hope.
Somethingsomething
| Occupation | Busker/Knight-Errant |
| Age | 21 |
| Alias | Dia, Lydia Laflamme |
| Court | Seelie |
| Kith | Satyr |
| Legacy | Troubadour |
| True Name | Lydia Arsenault ap Fiona (she's very cagey about this) |
|The armed man should be feared
Everywhere it has been proclaimed
That each man shall arm himself
With a coat of iron mail.
The armed man should be feared.
When I was a young boy, my father
Took me into the city to see a marching band
He said, "Son, when you grow up would you be--"
"--the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"
