|Nightingale Summers's Vitals|
|Name: Nightingale Summers|
|Shortdesc: Tiny beauty, platinum blonde, very forgetful.|
|Position: Starving Artist|
|Gemma Ward as Nightingale Summers
WARNING: This information should be considered OOC Knowledge unless one has the IC means to access it.
Adorably beautiful, sadly innocent, sweetly playful, sensually erotic are words that can describe this young woman. Soft smooth skin, just past that pale stage that echoes elegant allure, but not tan enough to be considered someone who enjoys the outdoors. Masses of curls fall protectively around her elegantly formed face. Cheekbones are high, a touch of rosiness crests each as they disappear into her hair, her ears are delicate and formed perfectly for the cuffs that line the top edges and the three piercing that have simple studs. Her eyes have a very slight almond shape with thick dark lashes that shelter them from view; when they are seen, the color is that of a calm sea, bottomless and intense, they seem to focus on nothing at all, even when her full lips turn into a delighted expression.
Her hair is very long, thick and nearly unmanageable as the curls flicker down her form like pale platinum. This day they have been pulled back to highlight her face, small combs of tiny crystal beads form a halo on top of her head, thirteen braids interwoven with more sparkling crystals shimmer down her back to end in silent bells. This leaves tiny curls to fall to her smooth shoulders and to be picked up by the slightest breeze, it's not uncommon for long strands of hair to be found blocking her vision while teasing a cheek.
She is not thin but her form is delicate, breakable and without major strength, it's clear her charming personality tries to make up for this lack in how she dresses. A long tunic of crushed natural fabric fits her developed form, the dark vibrate blue a telling contrast to the cream undertunic that peeks from the lowered neckline and down around the cuffs. Here deep browns, blacks, greens, reds and purples combine in a maze of embroidery that tells a story while looking delicate but raised in texture. A belt of black silk curls around her hips, bringing the fitted tunic into line to highlight the shape she was born to, the hour glassed figure that is perfect and deserves the right fabrics. One of which is the rich brocade of burnt umber that forms the skirt she wears this day. Soft but again textured to the touch the full skirt falls to above her booted feet, inches from the ground to make travel in all weather possible. The boots are again unusual, made of a deep leather that blends with the full outfit, textured with the same designs from the cuffs above.