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Deleted User
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OOC Info: Name/Alias: Longlegs Daddy Gender: platypus Contact Information: PM Other Characters: Iroazayaka Tsukuumo
Are you sure you read all the rules?: When he goes vampire-slaying, the headmaster always wears his best dress and make-up. He likes to feel pretty while hunting for monsters in the sewers.
IC Description: Name: Adelie Margaux Desrosiers Alias/Nickname: Addie, Delia, Daisy, Marguerite, Margo (the first two are used by her family exclusively, the last three by Marcel) Age: 19 Gender: Female Race and Level: Vampire, Level B Status: Night Class Student
Appearance: I am the typical European Venus. Blonde hair that varies from a shock of platinum to a burnt caramel depending on the season and personal preference, deep-set eyes of an enigmatic purple hue, and a delicate bone structure inherited through generations of blue-blooded vampires.. this is my heritage, one that I have fully grown into. My shoulders are small, the arms long and thin. My mother often tells me I do not have a coarse bone in my body. My lips are naturally a distinct carmine red, puckered and bow-shaped. The only other points of coloring on my face are my eyelashes and eyebrows, the color of burnt caramel. My cheeks rarely retain color and remain an alabaster white. I do not need cosmetics to accentuate my features, as my eyelashes are excessively long and curve upwards, and my eyelids always carry a hint of lavender due to the thin skin. I have especially small hands and feet.
Most of the time, I seem to lack vigor, my movements languid and deliberate. I am not one to be visually possessed with the vibrancy of life, and only speak when it is necessary. When I do speak, my use of vocal inflections are limited. Although my naturally soprano voice is pleasant to listen to โ an inherited trait โ I am not overfond of using it to please others. I do not speak in long sentences. My voice never rises above the necessarily quiet tone used at a library. It may be easily talked over, but is never ignored due to the fact that I talk rarely, and my words matter when spoken.
I enjoy brushing my long hair every day before bedtime. Fifty strokes each night keep the hair straight and silky. My nightdresses, and most of my clothing for that matter, are very feminine. I enjoy ruffles, lace, and taffeta -- the latter only in minute quantities. I will wear pants if the occasion requires it, but preferably I keep to my dresses and skirts. The only footwear that will suffice for my choice of clothing are heels, and I am always thankful that I am not so tall (at a proper 166cm) as to look ungainly with the additional height from my footwear of choice. I make an effort to wear a hair ornament every day to complete the look; I like looking perfect every day. It is a monumental effort to enhance the spotless beauty already present, but I believe it is the duty of the ruling class to practice effortless perfection. We must give the lower classes an ideal to strive towards. To gain respect, one must look as if one deserves it and will not accept any other. On common days I wear ribbons or hair bands that accentuate certain colors of my outfit. On special occasions I may wear a tiara or a fascinator, preferably a fascinator. I prefer jewels and expensive fabrics over feathers.
All in all, I am the epitome of a patrician. A slender body (nothing voluptuous), a stately demeanor (an essential component of a member of the privileged classes), and an a modulated (when appropriate) voice.
Personality: I am a product of my upbringing. As a child, I was despicable. Calculating, selfish, and demanding. My parents denied me nothing, and my brother gave me everything. The awful personality ripened when I murdered a human girl on my sixth birthday. Since then, I have learned wiser methods of venting my emotions, and have cultivated a sense of responsibility. While my child self would have been deemed unfit for society, my current self would be more than competent as an adult member, with all the necessary consciences and morals in place.
Beings of lesser classes, however are treated with condescension, even if I do not deem it so. It seems to be a behaviour ingrained into my body. Common vampires, humans, they are all the same to me. Lower beings. Ones of my own status are usually treated with apathy, unless one should display some measure of intelligence and knowledge in areas that I have personal interest in. My eyes sparkle with life when this happens -- just my eyes, however. I would also smile sparingly during such situations. During all other occasions, smiles are reserved for the rarest of moments.
I do not trust easily. It is simply too easy to betray a promise made with words, and all vampires are out for their own, driven by a natural instinct to survive. It is my personal philosophy and has served me well thus far. I am therefore somewhat withdrawn. I do not make unnecessary talk, such as fleeting comments on the weather, divulging of personal information, and such. It would largely classify as 'polite conversation'. I do know how to engage in such meaningless flattery... but I choose not to. One's words have more gravitas when used sparingly. Many are unnerved or miffed by my silence, but so far, it has only been directed at lower beings, and thus have not mattered. The only vampires of my level that I have met were during salons at the Roueche Mansion, where I was prone to animated and prolonged conversation. I do wonder how aristocrats would react to my lack of words.
On a related note, I have a habit of falling silent at the most inopportune times. It happens because I am constantly assaulted by sounds and must sometimes forgo the power of speech to better focus on listening.
When somebody threatens me, I am the type to calmly walk away and plot my revenge. My brashness of childhood is all but gone, replaced by patience and a love for the finesse of a well-plotted action. Interestingly, it takes a lot to rouse my anger now. If somebody insulted me in public, the said person would not live to see another day... after he was far away from me. I do not see it wise to take action immediately during such situations, all to satisfy my ego. It would do me more harm than good, and the temporary joy at satisfying my lower moral cravings would soon be replaced by a deep shame at embarrassing myself in public.
That being said, I could perform murder myself if needed. Marcel has taught me that sometimes, personal action is the best way to ensure that action is taken. Others often believe that murdering someone is horrific, and would permanently scar the perpetrator's mind. I suppose it helps that I have already taken a life, albeit under less than desirable circumstances. At the present time, I do not associate any particular pleasure with the act of taking a life. If a lower being has committed a crime, and its punishment be its life, so be it. It is a duty that must be done with efficiency. This viewpoint was largely influenced by Marcel... he fully supports the Hunters and their goals of eliminating degenerate level e's and other dangerous vampires. I am an avid believer of the theory, 'survival of the fittest', which further corroborates Marcel's viewpoint. If you wish to commit a crime and be eliminated by a Hunter, so be it. You are free to ruin your own lives. Just do not touch me and mine own, or there will be severe consequences.
Other Information: I had a fear of being left alone as a child. All it took was one day of accidentally being left behind at one of the family chateaus in the Pyrenees. The fear became irrelevant, however, once my unique ability manifested. I was suddenly with all the companions in the world, and rather, had to learn to cultivate a personal 'alone' space within my mind. It is merely one of the rusted artifacts in my history, and to this date, no one has mentioned it, even in recollection.
IC Background: Biography: My people originate from a pairing of proud Gauls and powerful Romans. Although conquered by the Franks, we still maintain a sense of distinct pride quite different from the average Frenchman's pride for his country. My family can trace its roots back to the House of Capet. We were forced to change our name to the more common 'Desrosiers' during the 14th century when our royal house faded from history. Our ancestral seat is in Savoie, France. The family holds a number of estates around France and its surrounding countries, however. The Desrosiers Estate is not constrained by human national borders.
The people of Savoie are proud and independent. We are used to violence and strife, due to our geographical location, but we endure, even as the governments claiming sovereignty over the land change. We often say that our resilience and independence is a family trait.
My childhood was idyllic. Frolics in the woods, endless parties, overflowing love. Typical of an ancient aristocratic family with a bounty of wealth and time. My sister and I were the darlings of the entire region, our growth watched from birth. My family kept -- still keeps -- a close relationship with the human charges in our lands, even if human governments have now rendered our titles antiquities. They, in turn, view us as liege lords of the land, a habit of mind passed down for centuries until it took root so firmly, it could not be shaken by modern viewpoints.
I was infatuated with all that was pretty and perfect -- namely, my family. Although my sister and I were identical twins, she was always the kinder one. She was always willing to give out of pure joy, whereas I would give out of obligation that arose from my status. I had perfected the concept of noblesse oblige from a young age.
Until the age of six, we both did not show any particular proficiency in a special ability. We could easily be mistaken for wealthy human girls, if not for our fangs and unearthly beauty. My ability manifested on the eve of my sixth birthday in a rather curious manner.
The palace and the nearby town was in a frenzy of activity, busy preparing for the lavish celebrations due the children of the lord. It so happened that I was sitting by a window, trying to stay out of the way and look pretty so that people would give me more compliments. I always strove for more compliments than Rosalie, although it always had the opposite result, infuriatingly. The palace was located several miles away from the town on an estate of its own, and even the most blue-blooded aristocrat would not have been able to hear the loudest sound coming from the town.
And yet I heard it.
It started as a whisper, carried on the lightest breeze. I thought I was hearing conversations down the hall. I would jump up from my seat, walk a ways down the corridor, and sensing no one, return to my vigil. It went on for the better part of the morning (I was much too excited to sleep at all), until at last, I ran off to another part of the house in frustration.
I studiously avoided open windows until the evening, when Father had chosen to take the evening meal in a chateau. Upon stepping outside, the voices assaulted me immediately and only lessened once I had got into the carriage. The windows were left open, much to my great dismay, and I could hear everything happening in the town. Things of no special importance, and other things best kept from children's ears.
It was then I picked out a particular name from the thousands of meaningless words that streamed by.
'Alexi.'
My expression contorted in an impressive show of disdain. I remember Mother and Rosalie shocked, shocked that I, such a sweet little child, could make such a cruel face. At that moment, I learned that such shows of strong emotion were abhorred by others. They did not do me any good. I immediately schooled my features into something more suitable for the occasion, and Mother did not comment on it -- no doubt still in denial.
My brother was everything to me. He was first and foremost in my mind, even taking precedence over my sister, whom I thought to be dim-witted and a waste of space unless useful to me. Compared to my slow sister, my brother was clever, handsome, athletic, and devoted to his young siblings. He was my knight in shining armor, my savior from the horrors of a mundane day. What child wouldn't love a brother who was such a perfect playmate?
It enraged me that this human girl could speak of my brother in such a familiar tone. Even I did not refer to him as such; his first name was reserved for my parents only. I only thought of his name in reverential tones, and only called him by his middle name when absolutely necessary to get his attention. A human, a human entertaining such thoughts about my brother was unthinkable. Impossible. Inconceivable.
At the young age of six, I had no finesse in solving problems that came my way. I had none. They were all eliminated before they could even cast the faintest of shadows on me. The only way I could think of doing anything was getting rid of the girl. Physically, for all eternity. The thought occupied the entirety of my childish mind, and I was so fixated on it with a single-minded determination, I paid no attention to the private family celebration my Father had arranged for my sister and I. In fact, I did not move from my seat until I heard the familiar voice again.
The girl was the offspring of one of the many human women that were employed by my family. She had tagged along with her mother to help serve the drinks. Getting her alone wasn't difficult. Although she held superiority over me in age -- she was the same age as Alexi, at a lofty thirteen years -- I was still the lord's daughter, and she had to obey my whims. I declared in a loud voice that I needed help getting to the water closet. My mother and governess were horrified at my manners, and permitted my claiming of the girl as an attendant. She looked faintly disgusted at the prospect, which stoked my fires of rage further.
As soon as we had left the dining room, I bid her to tie my shoes again for me. And when she had bent down, I wrapped my small hands around her neck in a merciless grip.
It was sweet, oh so sweet. The power to take a life. Extinguish its flames until the light went out in the pathetic little girl's eyes... and I had not even exerted much effort. I was already so glorious, such a powerful being compared to the human beings that scuttled around. As the girl grew heavy in my hands, I let her go, and heard, rather than saw, her body thump to the ground. The enormity of what I had just done did not hit me until much later -- when it was much too late to ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness not from the human that I had murdered, but from my family, that I had so crudely put to shame before the vampiric community. I still wonder at my parents' calm handling of the situation, when surely they must have been seething with rage and horror at the child they had produced.
I was a little monster.
Under other circumstances, they would not have believed the story that I had heard this girl-human talking in town. It would have been written off as a fanciful tale, the product of an overactive imagination. In the light of such events, however, my parents immediately recognized my ability for what it was. It had not been seen in the family for generations; there was a stigma associated with the ability, and the members of my family had been grateful when it had skipped generations. Nobody wanted a madwoman -- for the ability was exclusive to the female gender -- to sully their reputation.
A year went by without mention of what had happened. Mother and Father treated me the same as always. Alexi and Rosalie knew nothing of the incident. If one thing had changed, it was my new governess. Rosalie and I had shared one, by the name of Catherine. She was strict, dignified, and well-learned. A boring woman. She got along well with Rosalie. I was more of an enigma to her; she could never find anything to fault with me, but always kept a wary eye on me.
After the incident, I was assigned a new governess. She was called Colette, and was a young, beautiful aristocrat. I did not know why she would want to be a governess, with looks like that. I could not trick her. She was always with me, even when I slept, and was more of a jailer than a governess, severely restricting my activities so that I was never in contact with humans. She also taught me on a different curriculum than the one I was used to. I spent hours learning languages, playing instruments, and dancing, while Rosalie was given free rein to play as much as she wanted.
Strangely, I liked Colette and her hard regimen. I felt that I had somehow earned preferential treatment from my parents, and Colette was my prize. I could show everyone that I was superior to Rosalie and all the other girls of my age, and everyone would love me. I did not even complain when my parents told me that I would be sent to a distant relative on the other side of France. It was the eve of my seventh birthday, exactly a year since the incident, and I left that very night, accompanied with a single servant and Colette.
I can never forget the morning I first set eyes on the Roueche Mansion. From the majestic ruins of Lillebonne, the mansion was visible as a large, imposing structure on the horizon, sprawling without seeming extravagant, grandiose without seeming gaudy. I immediately felt a powerful presence on the edge of my consciousness, a presence I soon came to associate with the pureblood Marcel Roueche.
After delivering me onto the grounds, Colette and my servant immediately left. I was left alone to confront one of the most powerful beings in my universe. I had heard stories about these purebloods, received hours of instruction on them, as they were living histories of the vampiric race. In my childish mind, however, I did not fully realize how powerful these beings were until I met Marcel. His gravitas immediately intimidated me, as did his aura of power.
He became a new Alexi to me from then on. He was Alexi, and Colette, and more. He could spend hours lecturing about histories he knew from first-hand experience, then teach me how to properly dance a waltz the next minute. He would instruct me in the finer points of properly arranging the furniture in a room, then tell me to make him laugh within ten minutes. He was both strict and liberating, the perfect instructor anybody could possibly have. Under him, I gradually developed a conscience and appreciation of life, an innate understanding of the seemingly whimsical workings of fate and its manipulation.
He had just come out of a slumber of centuries when he had taken me in. Vampires flocked to the mansion, andwere always received well. He loved to hold small salons -- in the manner of his favorite century -- and often bade me join in. I thus became acquainted with many individuals of the highest echelons of society, and discussed politics and culture with the best of them. Marcel often quietly presided over these meetings, adding a word here and there when he saw fit. At the end of a salon, he would have me give him a thorough analyzation of each of the attendees and the topics discussed.
When Cross Academy was established, Marcel was greatly intrigued. He had not met the Kurans since going into slumber, and was thus naturally curious as to what the offspring of the purebloods he knew would do. Coexistence, he explained to me, was a dangerous agenda. Humans feared what they could not conquer. Cornered animals, no matter how harmless, could turn vicious in a second. Vampires were similar as well. They were arrogant and lazy. If not for the Hunters, they would have driven the world to ruin centuries ago.
I was more than a little confused. If both sides of the coin were losing bets, what did Marcel bet on?
He simply smiled at the question and bade me attend this Academy for him, find out if there are any underlying motives under this loftily proclaimed goal, and let the Kuran pureblood know that he would consider offering his support if I approved.
Family and Other Important People: Nicholas Laurentin and Amelie Denisette Desrosiers: are my parents. They raised me until seven and passed me off to a pureblood relative by the name of Marcel Roueche, for education and guardianship. My father manages the state of Savoy -- as recognized by us, not the human government -- and holds a seat on the Council. The status of our family is high, as we are an ancient noble line, and the thin but present relationship to the pureblood Marcel Roueche is an undeniable source of power.
Alexi Herve Desrosiers: is my elder brother. He is a businessman, and deals with the production of cars in Germany. He is naturally protective of me and my sister, but he is not the type to fawn over others. Others often say he is a cold man, but that is just the way that men of his stature must behave. Lower classes would not understand. He spares no expense for the pleasure of my sister and I โ as long as we obey his rules.
Rosalie Ines Desrosiers: is my younger twin. We were born identical twins, and during our formative years, even our family could not tell us apart when we chose to be particularly mischievous that day. However, as we grew up in vastly different environments, we have grown to be... different. Our looks are still similar -- although many say I look very much like Marcel now. She still retains the youthful and vibrant beauty of a young woman, whereas I grew out of that stage years ago. She elected to stay with the rest of the family in France, as she dislikes traveling.
Marcel Roueche: is known by all as simply 'Monseignor Roueche'. A pureblood of an ancient, powerful French house, he has been and still is my primary benefactor and guardian. When I was sent to him, I was under the impression that he was to be my temporary caretaker. It was only recently that I learned that all guardianship had been passed to Marcel. The news was not as shocking as it would have been during my formative years; by then, I held no desire to return to my former life. From documents and artifacts around the house, I have gleaned that he is of House Capet, but his true name has never been revealed to me. When I was a child, I declared that I would be married to him. I now know that was an idiotic statement, and am grateful of Marcel for laughing it off, even if I still retain the feelings. I curse him at times for making me unable to find a suitable partner for marriage; my ideals are too high.
Items of Note: I do not possess much that is of personal value to me. Material belongings are nice, but they are not everything. I have a single handkerchief that I keep on my body at all times. Yellow with a border of cream lace.
Character Goals: My duty to the family is to marry into a well-off family and keep the family line strong, even under another name. My purpose for attending this institution thus has an alternate purpose -- to find a worthy candidate for a husband. I realize that my father is being very lenient in permitting me to choose -- somewhat -- my future spouse, and do not intend to squander the chance that most of my peers would scramble to get. In reality, I am to serve as both messenger and representative for Marcel. He seems to be interested in Kuran Kaname's vision of coexistence, and has sent me to discern whether it is a goal worth championing. He has not taken an active role in vampiric politics and society for centuries, and does not wish to jump in at the first sign of change.
Powers, Abilities and Notable Skills: Clairaudience: the power to hear things that are normally inaudible. When I was born with this ability, my parents were dismayed. This ability had not been seen in the family for decades -- and for good reason. I am able to hear the thoughts of lower beings such as humans and other vampires. I, however, cannot hear fully formed thoughts from my equals, unless I am well acquainted with them and/or have formed a close bond with them. What that bond consists of, I do not know. I can hear a few words here and there from my peers, and fully formed thoughts with the ones that I am close to -- after receiving permission. I do know that I can delve into their minds if I chose to, but they would notice the intrusion right away, and it would not be beneficial to my well-being. I can also hear what people are saying very easily. This subability scales with distance, and has a range limit of eight kilometers. It is just an extension of the normally excellent hearing of vampires. I can, however, hear my loved ones speaking as if they are standing right next to me.
I greatly enjoy fencing. It is the only sport for which I would don trousers. Incidentally, I also love to sword dance. It is not an activity that I engage in outside the privacy of my own home, however. I do not like strangers knowing things about me. Roueche has raised me to be a proper lady in line with ancient standards. I am able to speak numerous modern languages fluently and can play several instruments with proficiency. Ballroom dancing is also a must.
RP Sample: "I will be in the garden. Return to me with the completed enrollment papers."
Madame Desrosiers stepped from the old-fashioned car. If she had things her way, she would have taken a carriage to the gates. Alas, carriages were sadly outmoded and not easily found in Japan -- of all places -- and thus she had to make do with an aged limousine. While she could easily afford one of the newer, sleeker models and their unnecessary amenities, she preferred the simple, classic, and antiquated. It was a result of life in a mansion saturated with centuries of history.
Slow, stately steps took her to and through the iron gates that marked the boundaries of the Academy. Once she was inside, she paused and took a deep breath, as if the air inside was different from the air outside the gates. Deep purple eyes, overshadowed by languid eyelashes, took in the scene before her. Several Night Class students could be seen making their way across the grounds, and while they looked at her with curiosity, she did not spare them a glance of recognition. If they truly wished acquaintance, they could seek it themselves. If they were worth of acquaintance, she would find them out herself in the near future.
Her gloved hands primly gathered before her, she walked towards a tree and stood in its shade, as if to seek shielding against the moonlight. Her violet pumps rested delicately on the soft grass, ready to sink in during a moment of negligence. In truth, she was keenly observing the group of students who seemed to be taking an outdoor class. Painting, it seemed, the flowers at the entrance to the gardens.
'This Academy wastes precious time on worthless pursuits.' was the first judgment she made. Her impassive face an alabaster mask of polite disinterest, she moved her gaze elsewhere in search for more interesting subjects.
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