Amaryllis “Amy” Cerise
Mane: Dark pink with paler pink, almost white, streaks, and it naturally spirals down one side of her face and wraps slightly around her neck.
Tail: Dark pink with paler pink, almost white, streaks, naturally curled into the shape of a spiral.
Eyes: A pale, rose pink. The eye itself is almond-shaped.
Body: A pale, dusty lavender.
Cutie Mark: A pink rose with one leaf. It symbolises her love of plants, and her natural ability to nurture them.
Age (Baby, adult): Teen
Personality: Amaryllis is a kind, loving pony, and finds it easy to make friends as she will accept anypony the way they are. She doesn’t judge ponies, and loves finding out about their backgrounds and their history. Amy is a good listener, and will often just listen to you silently while you talk as she prefers to be on the receiving end of chatter. Sometimes, this makes it seem like she is ignoring ponies, and can rub them the wrong way. She is a bit of a ditz, and will often find herself forgetting things or misplacing objects. However, if she finds someone mistreating the environment, her passion and love for nature will shine through, intimidating those who don’t expect it. She has always adored the notion of true love, but has yet to experience it, and is extremely naive and oblivious to "hints" or approaches by stallions.
Likes: Plants, beauty, watching things grow, stopping to smell the roses, ponies who share her passion, ponies who talk a lot because she loves to listen, the colour green, the sunshine, peace and quiet, bird song and gifting other ponies the fruits of her work.
Dislikes: Mean and/or rude ponies, loud noises, annoying sounds, seeing people needlessly litter and not care for the beauty in the world around them, people being too busy to appreciate the simple things, losing objects, worrying, and getting bullied and teased.
Amaryllis was born to a very rich family. They were highly influential in their area, meaning that she found herself surrounded by friends. It wasn’t long before she realised that they weren’t there for her, but instead for the prestige and wealth brought along by her name. Because of their high rank in society, her mother always brought her up as a “proper lady”, making her wear high-heeled shoes and make-up. Amy didn’t mind, as it made her mother happy.
Ever since she was a young filly, she’d always had a massive fascination with plants. She studied them day in, day out, but never actually managed to plant any seed because her parents didn’t want her to become a gardener. They thought it was “dirty”, and “much too common for her social status.”
Her mother desperately wanted her to find a new interest, such as dresses or hairstyling – something much more along her preferences - so she sent her to school. There, little Amy discovered that she was not very good at most of the subjects, finding English to not be her forte and geography the one she hated the most. Biology and maths appeared to be the only subjects she was truly good at. That coupled with the fact that she still hadn't gotten her cutie mark meant that Amaryllis was always bullied and was outcast because of it.
One day, during a carnival, the other ponies were having fun while she sat off to the side under a tree for some shade, choosing not to participate as she knew she would be ridiculed. She was sitting near some flowers as she munched on an apple, watching the colts race each other in the sprints, when she discovered a couple of them to be wilting dreadfully. Although it was a hot day, Amy didn’t even hesitate to carefully drizzle some of her precious water onto them, and they flourished. That was when she got her cutie mark.
Her parents were furious, but eventually learnt to deal with it. Every day, her skills grew, and eventually she was able to coax plants out of the ground with her magic. Now that she was so experienced, her parents began to gloat, boast, and even sell out her services. Amy hated it. She didn't like how they treated her almost like cattle, and eventually decided she'd had enough. Getting into a row with her parents, she left that night, scraping bits here and there where she could while on the road. Eventually, she came upon Canterlot, and decided she was here to stay.
These days, she is back in contact with her parents, and goes to visit them every once in a while, as they slowly rebuilding their shattered relationships. Sometimes, she visits Ponyville, Manehatten, or Trottingham, as she finds it a nice to explore different cities.
2. A secret admirer confesses his/her love to your OC. Given your OC’s personality, compose a brief narrative in which your OC identifies and addresses the situation.
Amaryllis gently removed the weeds from around her patch of gardenias, careful not to disturb the tender roots of the flowers as she toiled in the afternoon sun. A colt, one of her closer friends, sat nearby watching her work, shuffling his hooves nervously. Amy had noticed that he seemed a bit more on edge than usual, but passed it off to the heat. She leant back a bit, stretching to relax her sore muscles and got up to take a sip of water. That was when the colt chose to speak up.
“Amy…” he mumbled awkwardly, playing with the wicker of the seats.
“Yes?” the mare responded, sipping delicately at the water before setting it down and adjusting the hat on her head, resuming her work.
“I… I… Ireallylikeyou.” he muttered out all in a rush, the words linking together to form and intelligible mass of syllables.
Amy looked up, confused. “I’m sorry, what was that?” she asked gently, turning to face him as she sensed it was something important.
“Well… I…” The colt squeezed his eyes shut, as if it would soften the possible negative blow. “I… I really like you Amaryllis! You’re different to the other ponies, and you’re just special! Will you be my special somepony?!”
The colt gently eased one eye open, only to find his confession to have fallen on deaf ears – Amaryllis was weeding away again, and acting as if she hadn’t heard his speech at all. On the verge of tears, he dashed away, trying to stop the dam gates from bursting open.
It was only half an hour later that Amy actually looked up, turning to where the colt had been. “Hey, would you like some mo-“ Her question was cut short when she realised he was gone. Confused, she swivelled around to try and see him, only to no avail. “Huh. I wonder where he vanished off to in such a hurry.” Shrugging, she turned back to her weeding only to find a discarded straw lying on the ground. “Tsk tsk tsk! Who leaves plastic of all things just lying about?” she sighed, before removing her gloves to dispose of it responsibly.