| Full Name: | *a young black woman glances up to you from several loose sheets of composing paper, appearing to be startled at the voice for a moment.. the paper is covered with musical notes, sharps, flats, and repeats, all in great abundance, with bouncing syncopation and catching rhythmns in the style of ragtime, popularaized by Scott Joplin in 1899. Upon hearing your question, and obviously not finding you to be of any potential danger, she relaxes and sets her music aside with a small, shy smile and a nod of acknowledgement. After only a moment's pause, she speaks in the same shy manner as her smile* Cordelia Williamston. |
| Age: | *she picks up the sheets of paper gently, almost lovingly, and straightens them as her dark brown eyes flit up to her questioner once more* I'll be turning nineteen on November 27th. |
| Appearance: | *Cordelia is, at first glance, a mysteriously beautiful young woman in an exotic type of way. Thin and nimble, she moves with a fluid grace that could easily be described as ghost-like. With a small waist and gently pronounced hips and breasts, she dresses in a long, patched up burgundy skirt, with a white button-up, high-necked shirt in a light, dusky flowered patten that buttons at the cuffs as well as the neck, where a small brooch is fastened at the collar of her shirt. A long, elegant neck leads to a round, kind and gently stunning face with finely shaped eyebrows, high cheekbones, and a broad nose. Her skin is smooth and flawless, a creamy chocolate brown colour. Shimmering, almond-shaped eyes that are like onyx watch you quietly, her ebony hair piled atop her head in a gentle, feminine upsweep* |
| Background: | My background? I was born in St. Louis eighteen years ago.. my papa worked in a pub and resturant. My mother was your typical homemaker and mother to six children. I was stuck somewhere in the middle, with three older than me and two younger. All of us went to school and got as much education as circumstances would allow. When I was twelve, my papa and mama got into an argument.. I don't know what happened, none of my brothers or sisters did, but a few days later, some people from the orphanage came and got us. We were all split up as soon as we left our home.. the two youngest went with a family from the local church. They would have taken all of us, but they didn't have enough room in their house, or enough money. The remaining four went to a children's shelter.. Raymond, the oldest of us, got taken away. They said he was too old to be in a place like that, and was goin' to have to work. My sister got sent to Chicago, my other brother stayed in St. Louis, and I was sent to Manhattan. A year or so had passed by then, and I spent my thirteenth to my sixteenth birthdays in an orphanage. I hated it there, and I missed my brothers and sisters so badly I thought that I would die. My only join came from a piano that some hoity-toity man had donated to the place. I spent most of my time there, learnin' what little I could from the books. An older boy there already knew how to play, and he agreed to start givin' me lessons in return for me doin' some of his chores. I picked it up rather quickly, and.. well.. *small, light smile* I got into composin', too, soon as I heard Mr. Scott Joplin's "Maple Leaf Rag". I fell in love with it. Not long after, I was taken out of the orphanage and came to Harlem. There's a piano at a club around here that they let me play at.. I make money sometimes, too, playin' my own things, or things other people have written. |
| Relationships: | Oh.. I tend to keep to myself most of the time. Well.. no, I keep to my music most of the time. The girls here are real nice an' all, but most of the time, I'd rather be alone. As far as real friends go, the closest I've got to that would be Quill. As for a steady boy.. *she laughs softly, melodically with a shake of her head* Not yet. |
| Other Notes: | *Cordelia is a calm, gentle young woman with a rare, unbelievable talent for writing her ragtime and performing on the piano. She's calm and kind-spirited, with a shy streak that only vanishes when she is seated at the piano and playing. While she can sing as well, her true talents lie not in vocal but in instrumental music* |
