#also yes i got achilles tattoo life is beautiful

[measureformeasure]

genuinely think autobiography of red did something to my gender and sexuality and i'm not kidding

[crimsonxrogue]

( Zoe Kravitz, 29, cisfemale, she/her ) Have you seen VIVIAN SINCLAIR around ? I hear they’re an ANTIQUES DEALER who can sometimes be MERCURIAL & DECEITFUL. But I also heard they can be COURAGEOUS & CLEVER if you catch them on a good day. They’re usually hanging around HISTORIA & EDEN in their spare time. I sure hope they’re alright !

Hey hey people! I’m bringing you this very smol wildcard girl who deals in art and antiques (owner of Historia) and works at Eden as a dancer/singer and also is never up to any good. But she’s pretty nice otherwise, I promise - feel free to drop a like and I’ll pop into your DMs or you just pop straight into mine!

BASIC STATS

➤  NAME: Vivian Anais Sinclair ➤  AGE: 29 ➤  DOB: November 2nd ➤  BORN: Paris, France ➤  HEIGHT: 5′2′’ ➤  SIBLINGS: sister ➤  MBTI: ENTP-A ➤  ORIENTATION: bisexual ➤  OCCUPATION: owner of Historia, art and antiques dealer/thief and con-artist, singer/dancer at Eden ➤  EDUCATION: BA in Art History and English Lit ➤  TATTOOS: a sword and a flower entwined near her hipbone, small tattoos of DOBs of her mother and Astor, a faded tattoo of the gang that had taken her, covered with scars and bracelets  ➤  SCARS: amorphous scars that cover the tattoo given to her by the gang, a few marks from a cattle prod that was used on her when she was young (on her back and stomach), an old, silvery gunshot wound on her left shoulder  ➤  AESTHETICS: expensive dresses and black lace, agent provocateur and dior, the scent of chanel lingering in the air when she passes by, black leather gloves and deft fingers, small diamonds glinting on her neck, a fiery red ferrari, the glow of marble statues in distant lamplight, scent of old books and reflections in ornate, old mirrors, soft pearls and eyes hidden behind sunglasses, black nat shermans and nails painted red, knuckles wrapped in cloth the sound of them hitting a punching bag, a small figure riding wildly on the back of a towering horse, something quaint and scholarly about Historia, and her house, and her, hands messy with paint and whatever material she’s working with, skintight black clothes, a dark figure slinking through the expensive houses looking for her prize, something elegantly haphazard about her movement just like there’s something haphazard about her, careful eyes and red lips stretched into a delighted smile, laughter and eyes looking up beneath her lashes, hands pulling you after her, something careless and lively when she dances for herself, something dark and enticing when she dances for others, a soft french accent when she lets it through and when she’s tired, poems and books quoted ➤  VICES: tobacco, alcohol, sex, pretending to be someone else for fun  ➤  PETS: yes, a borzoi named Achilles - Vivi had rescued him after Achilles’ career in racing had ended and they discarded him, and a dobermann named Artemis that looks way meaner than she actually is (spoiler, she’s an even bigger puppy than Achilles) whom she’d gotten from Nate, also there’s a throughbred named Ares who was a gift from her parents, but obviously he doesn’t live at her house but rather she visits him almost every day to take care of him where he’s stationed a bit outside of the city (in order to be able to roam free)

QUICK RUNDOWN

Listen, this shit got long so here’s a quick rundown of Vivi so you don’t have to waste time unless you want to hahaha

Born in Paris, France to affluent parents - her mother was a politician and her father a real estate magnate. 

She was raised to be the picture-perfect daughter, mild and timid and set to follow in her parents’ footsteps. Let’s just say she was not thrilled with that. 

She was kidnapped at the age of 7 and held for ransom, it messed her up and she still has nightmares from that shit. 3 weeks later her parents got her back, but then put her under a bell jar and threw away the key.

She rebelled, ran away from home, hid away at the Louvre, generally did not obey especially when they forced her hand. 

They moved away to the US when she was 14 and she coped with it by creating her own game of play pretend - she figured out she had a penchant for pretending to be someone else, changing both her mien and looks, and it was her way of taking control over herself. 

At 18 she met Astor, a con-artist, at a banquet her parents attended and figured out what he was when they’d both tried to play each other by pretending to be something they weren’t. He wanted something from her parents’ house and she just gave it to him bc girl was SMITTEN. 

She ran off with him and the two bounced around the world for about two years, growing into their infamy as someone who could get their hands on anything you possibly wanted. 

They were on a mission in New York when shit went down, Astor disappeared (she still doesn’t know if he betrayed her or he got killed and it’s TORTURING her) and Vivi was kidnapped by a gang, branded as their property and had to live through hell on earth for almost a year. 

There was a raid and she escaped during that raid (she guesses it was someone from Chicago who was involved, and is still looking into who tf it was bc she owes them her life), took Astors Ferrari and got back to her parents. 

Studied Art History and English Lit while living with them, and then a few years later (after dealing with her trauma) she eventually moved to Chicago to open Historia. 

She nurtured her reputation as someone who could get shit for you that wasn’t even on the black market, as well as her connections to both the O’Sheas and the Fausts while remaining starchy neutral.

Started working at Eden a year in, as a dancer/singer - it was a way for her to take control of her body back and deal with her trauma from New York. 

HISTORY 

Born in Paris, France to parents who were affluent in their respective fields - her mother, working in politics, and her father, a real-estate magnate. She was coddled from early on, raised to be this picture-perfect daughter, with her destiny set in stone. Even though she was born the younger daughter, it didn’t mean anything less was expected from her. 

She showed an affinity for art and literature and music early on - and her parents let her focus on it, for now anyway. But she’d always been a wild child, interested in anything and everything, from running through museums to ballet to horseback riding.

When she was 7, she was kidnapped and held for ransom by a group that didn’t like her mother’s ideas, but liked her father’s money. Her parents would get her back after almost 3 weeks of a tug of war that was heavily publicized, but not without permanent scars that would mark Vivian for life, both mentally and physically. 

From then on her home life took a grim turn - her parents, terrified after what had happened to her little girl, decided to put her under a bell jar and keep her inside. Though terrified herself, Vivi was a social, lively kid that whithered away once cut off from the rest of the world, home-schooled and monitored at all times. 

She would perform rebellions of her own, little at first - unsatisfied with being locked up and told what she was supposed to do with her life. She would not be shoved into politics, or forced to take on her father’s business, or even worse - marry a wealthy, affluent man who would then take on her father’s business. She would be wild, and no one could take that away from her.

These rebellions escalated with age - from running out and hiding in the gardens, to running out and hiding in the Louvre. The one rebellion she couldn’t perform at 14 was staying in Paris when her parents packed up and decided to move to the US, taking away what little agency she still had in a city that held so many familiar hiding spots. 

There she learned she had a penchant for pretence - she could morph herself into whatever she wanted to be. All she had to do was tweak her make up, what she wore, the way her eyes would burn with indignance or be downcast in delightful bashfulness, the lines of her smile, lips painted a seductive red or charming pink. It was an art form in itself, this game of make-believe. 

By the time she was 18, it had become almost second-nature to her - she was all of it, both the lonely girl trapped beneath the bell jar and the characters she would come up with. It would not be until she met Astor that she’d realise she was not alone in this game - he too knew how to play this game, and played it well. But neither of them played well enough to not call each other out by the time the banquet was over. 

And while she did it for the freedom of being someone else, he did it because it was a way to attain connections, find his way into houses that held something he wanted, a precious jewel, an antique, information. Vivi would become enthralled by him - and how could she not? He was a wildcard, a creature of freedom, everything she ever wanted. 

It was not long before she was running away with him, leaving behind in her room only a promise that this time she was disappearing of her own volition. It would not be easy at first, with her parents organizing a manhunt - for her daughter, and the man who had ‘taken her away’ from them. But Astor had a way with avoiding notice, even if he was the type of person to attract all eyes towards him, and the two would bounce around the world, drunk on their exhilaration, young and in love and at the top of the world. 

Vivi, raised with this romantic ideal of love and destiny, thought it would never end. They would always be this, infamous for their ability to attain what no one else could, legends in making, young and beautiful and brilliant. But it did. It was a mission gone wrong, out there in New York - and the two of them would get separated, Vivi left behind to be dragged away once again, and Astor to never be seen again. 

Her abilities were only useful when she was free, but now - kidnapped and abused into submission, she was once again stripped of her agency, her beloved freedom snatched away, her spirits shattered into a million tiny pieces. She was marked, her wrist tattooed, made into nothing but property. And she’d almost believed them, she’d almost let them take her soul away. 

There was a raid eventually, and in the midst of the commotion, she did what she did best - slipped away, unnoticed. She’d steal Astor’s car from their garage (they’d taken that too), a fiery-red 250 GT California that made her soul ache, and fled. Through diplomatic channels, she’d manage to reach her parents, and return home after being gone for almost three years. 

Back home she refused to be put under control once again - the bargain was struck, her return for her freedom. But freedom, after everything that had happened to her, was a dainty, broken thing. She was terrified of her own shadow, her soul bruised, wondering what had happened with Astor - unsure whether to mourn his betrayal or his death. She would live with her parents for the next few years, learning to be whole again, studying Art History and Literature, immersing herself in that experience. 

She’d find eventually that not all of her was taken away in those months she’d spent trapped in New York - and eventually, she would move to Chicago, to open Historia, her antiques shop, to find out who was behind that raid in New York that had let her escape, to find herself again. 

She’s been in Chicago for a few years now - building up a name for herself, as someone who’s able to attain anything your heart might desire, building up connections with both the O’Sheas and the Fausts. Illicit antiques or antique weapons - you name it and she will find it, even if it’s not readily available on the black market. 

It was almost a year into her stay that she’d joined the Eden crew as a dancer and a singer both. That was a rash decision, made because something broken still ached in her chest - a way to take control of her body back. She would be seen and admired under her own conditions, and no one could take that away from her ever again. A strange way to deal with her trauma, some would say, but she’d always liked doing things the way she felt was right.

HEADCANONS

Drives a fiery red Ferrari 250 GT California Spyder that was originally Astor’s. She loves that car like it’s a piece of her soul and in a way - it is. It was stolen from them when their operation was busted in NYC but she literally risked her life during he raid just to get it back. She knows it’s a wild cliché, but she would protect that piece of metal with her life. Sure, it’s a pretty thing, and she likes the way she feels behind the wheel – but there is a certain amount of sentimentality involved. When she’s not in that car she’s got a motorcycle to get around and loves dressing up for it. 

Even though Historia looks innocent enough at first glance, and it mostly is (you can just walk in and buy stuff from the shelves), if you’re aware of Vivi’s capabilities you can ask her to get anything for the right price. She works to get stuff that’s not even on the black market for both the O’Sheas and the Fausts (artefacts or antique guns, depending on the request). She will straight up walk into someone’s house and steal that shit if necessary hahaha

Despite her reputation as being very reliable and getting the original stuff for her usual customers, she will sometimes con rich assholes she doesn’t’ like into buying something that’s actually a forgery. She has a talent for making those and does an impeccable job at making them look legit - from forging them to look worn and aged to making the documents look legit. But if she likes you or if you’re a familiar customer she’ll straight up tell you don’t buy this, it’s fake af. Like she won’t do this unless she has a secret bone to pick with someone.

She will rather stand on precarious stacks of various items or chairs, than admit she can’t reach something – which happens often, given her height, and has been the culprit behind a few bruised elbows. 

 Absolutely loves horseback riding, and has since she was a child and took her first lessons. She actually owns an Arabian thoroughbred named Ares whom she’d gotten from her parents as a gift, and has brought him along with her to Chicago. Whenever she is feeling stressed or lonely it’s where she can be found, either just tending to Ares, or taking him for a ride.

She has in the past, and still does - give out a fake name and a persona when she’s feeling like doing it. She’ll tweak her accent and her personality and dress appropriately and just play along - it’s not done out of malice, just an old habit she’s had since she was a teenager. If she likes you she’ll probably admit to it eventually and say who she really is. 

Does have a faint French accent that slips through when she’s irritated, tired or distressed - or when she feels like being extra. Words like mon cher and merde are used often enough though. 

Dances and sings at Eden as a way of taking control of her body again - it’s a way of coping with trauma, even if most people don’t know it is.

When she was kidnapped and imprisoned by a gang in New York, they tattooed her wrist to mark her as their property. She doesn’t like to speak of everything she’d endured there, from being forced to work in one of their clubs to being abused, and the scars she’d made over the tattoo are usually hidden beneath bracelets or long sleeves or gloves.   

She’s still a lively persona that refuses to be chained down by her trauma - she’s that person that’ll grab your hand and drag you on stage with her to sing karaoke, or refuse to leave when you’re dealing with something tough. She just loves people, and is willing to give herself away for them - it’s why she suffered so much and rebelled when her parents tried to lock her away to keep her from harm.

Loves painting/photographing people and animals, nature is fine - but she prefers to paint the living things, mid-movement and gilded with life. 

You can count on her to randomly quote shit, from poetry to literature. Her love for it has always been about escapism, but even now she can’t let go of it - she’s always caught up in some story unfurling in her mind. 

Her favourite things in Historia are old books and first editions - she’s hesitant to sell them sometimes, especially when she’s doubtful they’ll end up in good hands.  

Can’t fight properly - I mean she’s better than the average person, but there’s no way she could hold her own against someone who actually knows how to fight. Which is probably why she’s always on the lookout for someone who could train her, both to fight and to handle a gun. There’s a certain desperate need in her to learn how to protect herself - she doesn’t like feeling powerless.

Has killed someone when trying to escape from New York - she still hasn’t entirely gotten over it. It’s a struggle because she liked doing it - taking control back and avenging what they’d done to her. 

Will hide her scars the best she can - she doesn’t think they take anything away from her beauty but she also doesn’t like to be reminded of what was done to her, and tries to avoid curious glances and questions.

Loves playing the piano, and has one right in the middle of her living room - it’s all a very pretentious affair at first glance, but she actually does it because it’s familiar and soothing.

PERSONALITY

+     courageous, loyal, charming, caring, clever  -      stubborn, mercurial, guarded, deceitful, rebellious 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

The Sister - I’ve intentionally left her sister kinda unspecified because I want to leave room for the player to shape her and her story the way they want! But I would love to see this connection happen and I think Vivi absolutely adores her older sister, and while she hasn’t had problems rebelling against their parents, I think she’s always feared disappointing her sis. ksdfmlsdk I just need this in my life ngl 

Astor - The name isn’t set in stone btw, I can just change his name in the intro so you’re free to do with him what you like! (like the name, age, where he’s from, why he is who he is etc.) But basically, I would love to see this connection happen because the idea was that he didn’t die (even though Vivi isn’t sure if he’s alive or dead) and instead managed to get away. Why he did it can definitely be discussed and the connection has a looot of potential for being angsty. They haven’t seen each other in years but Vivi was once absolutely smitten with him - I think it would be interesting to see what their dynamic would be after all those years have passed and the trauma they both suffered. She will not give him back their Ferrari though. Might agree to shared custody and that’s only if he can bribe her hahah Anyway this doesn’t have to be a romantic connection - I mean that entirely depends on how they deal with what happened and if Vivi can even forgive the betrayal, but it can still be angsty either way. 

The one that set her free - Okay so there was a raid in New York, and someone didn’t bat an eyelid while she escaped, or actually helped her escape when they figured she was held against her will (we can tweak this, again it’s not set in stone) She’s figured out they are somewhere in Chicago, but it can be anyone really - from gang members to unaffiliated charries to police. She just wants to figure out who it is and thank them for saving her life tbh This can be legit anything - the charrie could recognize her but not say anything and she’d have to figure it out on her own, or she could actively seek them out, or they could tell her, anything works! 

Fake persona/name victims - Honestly this bitch be out there pretending to be a British art curator or a French duchess or a member of a rock band or some shit like that. It’s open to more than one charrie and she’s been all around the world so this could work for anyone, any age or location. There could have been an affair, but tbh it could have also been a business deal or a friendship or anything really. I would love to have these connections and have her have to explain who tf she really is. 

Someone who recognises her from New York - pretty self-explanatory. I would love to explore that part of her history and tbh this could force her to explain what had happened to her. She could’ve admitted to them that she needed help but they couldn’t do anything to help her, or she could’ve just played her part there (not to get punished) and they could think that was the real her, she could’ve probably danced for them or smth and maybe resents them for it? Honestly, this could be as positive or as negative as we want it to be (whatever fits your bby i’m down for it)  

Historia customers - Tbh your bby could be just a casual visitor or someone who’s privy to her connection with the black market. She could’ve gotten something from them that they couldn’t get otherwise. This can be anyone since she’s on neutral territory but it can also be a member of O’Sheas or Fausts bc she does work with them and tbh prefers them to the Vasiles - she’d like her market to stay free and open and not for someone to have a monopoly over it. 

Historia employees - She def needs help with Historia, so your charrie could be working there! Esp if they’re a fan of art and old things and old books - we can figure out the position! They could be aware of her more... illicit dealings or they could be completely clueless and there could be some drama when they find out! Also, they can nerd out over this stuff together...

Partner in crime - This could be set at any point in time - perhaps they worked together on a mission to get something, they might be an art trader or a con-artist themselves, or she asked (maybe even paid) for their help when there was a particularly tough mission and she needed backup and protection. skdfjosodl I would love this so much, like we can even do a present thread for it - she’s still in the business after all. 

Someone she duped/stolen from - again, pretty self-explanatory, but this could be anyone that might have had something she wanted - I’d love to see her get called out on it. It could but doesn’t have to be a dark and resentful connection, it can always be amiable and she can be like ok I’m sorry I was just doing my job - do you want me to get smth for you pro bono?? Or they could call out her thieving ass in a darker way hahaha

Friends - past and present both! Someone she knows from her travels, someone she’s been friends since she was kid, and especially someone she’s friends with now. She’s amiable and loves people so it’s not that far fetched and it could work for anyone, she’s not picky or judgy haha 

Her squad - please?? We stan that stuff in this household. Doesn’t matter who they are and what their gender is, but Vivi would straight up die for these people, and she really likes being alive so that says something. They could even be neighbours or something! Ooh they could also work at Eden, I’d love to see that! She’s very protective of them probs. 

Eden customers - people who know her from Eden (they can know her from Historia too), they might be friendly with her, or she might have even danced/flirted with them or slept with them. She’s not above it if she particularly likes someone and would do it anyway, even though she’s not an escort. 

ALL OF IT - exes, friends from the past, enemies, people she flirts with or has had a one night stand with (still does maybe?), frenemies esp, someone who works in the same field as her and she doesn’t like them getting in the way, or people who work a legit job in the industry (antiques, art, etc.) and she asks for their opinions and loves discussing things with them...... Take your pick! Or if you have some other idea, don’t be shy and reach out to me, we can work it out! 

[kemuele]

Never-Ending Survey: Kemuel || Elouan

Rules: Repost, do not reblog

Tagged by: @lightdevoid because you love me

Tagging: @ whoever wants to/finds it interesting!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Kemuel || Elouan Sauveterre

NICKNAME: Kem, K, Pigeon || Elou, El, 

AGE:  unknown, appears to be in 30s || 34 

BIRTHDAY: none, but like 12/9 || 9th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Archangel? That count? || Elezen Wildwood

NATIONALITY: n/a || Gridanian

LANGUAGE/S: all ancient/current languages to some extent, fluent in English/Enochian || Common 

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

HOME TOWN / AREA: Heaven || Gridania, towards the outskirts that lead to Hawthorne Hut (East Shroud) 

CURRENT HOME: Earth, primarily Pacific Northwest in America | Travels a lot, but can be seen more frequently in Ishgard.

PROFESSION: Archangel due to created duties, whereas entry-level gigs to pay for his ‘human home’ || Sell sword Paladin, sometimes returns to being an errand boy or courier back in Gridania or other nations.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Umber, short on the sides with medium-length on top. 

EYES: Dark brown, flecks of gold seen when light hits them perfectly.

FACE: Large brows and lips, defined jaw and cheekbones with signs of stubble along his jaw and upper lip. || Same for all except stubble is minimal to none, and a long scar can be seen on his right cheek, extending from his jaw all the way to his orbital socket. 

LIPS: Full, with a pinkish-beige complexion. || Somewhat full, often found in a light smile.

COMPLEXION: Tan || Likewise tan, more on the warm scale of flesh with freckles spattered along his upper cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

BLEMISHES: None.

SCARS:  Scars litter his body in varying severity, with most concentrated on back and forearms. One long, jagged scar can be seen towards the ‘root’ of his left wing, just as it connects to his body. || Scars likewise litter Elou’s body in the same fashion, yet that long scar on his back is instead smaller, running from left shoulder down to mid-back.

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT: 6′10″ 

WEIGHT: 230lbs 

BUILD: Broad shoulders, toned and pronounced muscles, with an overall build resembling that of the average rugby player.

FEATURES: Has three pairs of wings designated visible, yet only two does he show on earth. These wings all have blue eyes on them that see at different levels of light waves, referencing his true form. || 

ALLERGIES: None.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Kept out of his face, combed towards the back of his head and given a little volume with the disheveling towards roots. Sometimes he’ll use clips as it dries to get that look.

USUAL FACE LOOK:  Pensive, with brown eyes looking around and lips pursed, sometimes his brow is furrowed due to concentration.

USUAL CLOTHING: Somewhat formal attire, primarily slacks and button-up shirts. He may wear a blazer or the like when he feels like it. || Armor, and heavy at that. When he’s taking a break from the sword, he can be seen wearing a tunic and trousers, as well as dark boots that cut off at the ankle.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Falling from heaven, deep waters, death, being forgotten || being forgotten, failure, betrayal, and deep waters.

ASPIRATION/S: To be better, make heaven and Father proud || Become a renown paladin and help others reach that level of dedication in their field, primarily tank or damage-oriented roles.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Loyal, kind, patient, intuitive, intelligent, caring, stubborn, hardworking/driven

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, hard-working, self-sacrificing, lacking in direction (Kemuel), aggressive

TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic

ANIMALS: Dogs, Bears || Golden Chocobo

VICE HABIT/S: Anger, overworking to the point of detrimental consequences.

FAITH: Is a believer, given his own existence. || Not extremely religious, but aware and acknowledging of the Twelve.

GHOSTS?: Yes. 

AFTERLIFE?: Not for him.

REINCARNATION?: No.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: None

EDUCATION LEVEL: N/A? || Nothing advanced as a whole, except in the ways of the gladiator and paladin. He has basic knowledge in mending his clothes and developing armory/blacksmith skills.

FAMILY.

FATHER : N/A except by name, God || Anatole Sauveterre

MOTHER : N/A || Margeaux Sauveterre

SIBLINGS :  Too many to count || None

EXTENDED FAMILY: None

NAME MEANING/S: Helper of God || Light, Safe land

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: He’s the archangel that, in old times, had guarded the gates of heaven, as well as act as a leading archon. He is also the archangel that has an army of twenty thousand angels dedicated solely for destruction, an apt tool in the early wars and the final ‘hurrah’ during the days of end. || Not quite, just suitable due to how beautiful sunlight can interact with the Black Shroud and its forests. 

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Can’t say for certain, but he has a feeling it’d be something like The Song of Achilles || hasn’t read too much, but Count Fortempt’s logs are interesting. Likewise with the Wondrous Trails in Idyllshire.

DEITY: He has no favorite, given his limited interaction with them. || His guardian deity, Azeyma the Warden

HOLIDAY: None in particular || Moonfire Faire 

MONTH: August || Eorzean equivalent

SEASON: Summer

PLACE: Eden || New Gridania

WEATHER:  Sunny with a cool breeze

SOUND / S: rain, leaves dancing in the wind, old hymns, thunder, laughter, metal hitting metal, shouts from war

SCENT / S: after an evening rain shower, sweat from sparring, metal and leather from armor, freshly brewed tea, and roses.

TASTE / S: warm, somewhat sweet like daifuku mochi or yams

FEEL / S: warmth, another person’s body against his own or in his arms, feathers, cotton fabric.

ANIMAL / S: Dogs and Grizzly Bears, as well as Golden Eagles || Chocobo

NUMBER: 20

COLORS: Gold, Copper, Umber, Cerulean

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Singing, swordsmanship, and leading.

BAD AT: Cooking, small talk in general, identifying romantic interest.

TURN ONS: Smiles, deep conversations, sparring, and loyalty.

TURN OFFS: Indecisive, overtly worried/anxious, untrusting, and lacking of faith.

HOBBIES: Reading, star gazing, visiting the sick (Kem more so than Elou).

TROPES: Lawful Good, Gentle Giant, Light is Good, Now Let Me Carry You

QUOTES:  “Loyal to the end, even when I may no longer stand or carry the sword of my creator.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?      

A1 :  Name is tba, I suppose. Something like an action film, with intense fight scenes or fixation on the preparation of war? With lulls that offer character introspection and some more tender moments between characters, telling his story and duties as an Archangel in heaven, and then ending through his first steps on earth.

Q2 :  What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 : Gustav Holst- the Planets- Mars, Bringer of Wars, perhaps. 

Q3 :  Why did you start writing this character?        

A3 : I wanted to try my take at an angel, but not just some pretty boy with wings. I had the intent to make his ‘true form’ the regular appearance, yet the time it’d take to draw countless of icons and format it with my schedule/energy doesn’t work. I wanted to make an angel that believed to be good and just, even when his actions don’t necessarily reflect that. Kem’s a character that has yet to be his own person and live life for himself, but much rather, revolves 90% of his actions around God. 

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?        

A4 : The idea that angels aren’t just these pretty faces that do good and are good no matter what. There’s a level of complexity to their nature, good derived from what God had deemed such rather than formed from their own mind. I wanted to explore the consequences of this isolated life of an angel, where any actions of independence happen to be discouraged and punished, likewise when orders are deemed immoral by an angel, too.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 :  He seems static. Fixed in his ways and never quite going to improve. It’s the biggest thing that I find hard for me to circumvent or get him into a new 

Q6 :  What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 :  Reading, thinking, and general kindness as a whole? We’re both interested in learning yet Kem’s is limited to what texts and like are in front of him, compared to actively seeking that new information without ties to God/heaven. I tend to think before I speak, often times taking hours or days to truly reflect on my actions or general conversations before I can offer anything I deem ‘complete’.

Q7 :  How does your muse feel about you?        

A7 :  I believe Kemuel, given his character and such, may view me with some respect for my drive to work hard and do my best, but hold some concern over my mental health/background. 

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?

A8 : Interesting? Well, there’s a lot. I want to start out with Fracturedsword’s Michael, as he and Kem are able to properly explore a healthy sibling dynamic and help each other up in their times of need. Making a thread revolve around their physical presence in one another’s lives, as well as the idea that men don’t have to be ‘macho’ or reserved in their emotions is truly nice to see! Likewise, lightdevoid’s Kurasa gives Kem’s FF14 verse a run for their patience. I like that we have this conflict in their current dynamic, making things like friendship harder to obtain but more rewardable in that regard. Likewise with wildborne’s tiger Queen, Skylar. She opens up a world of humanity and individualism that he had otherwise been starved of. The two share their respective worlds with one another, and then intertwine themselves in a world of their own making. One derived from a friendship and curiosity. 

Q9 :  What gives you inspiration to write your muse?    

A9 :  Hozier (see Sunlight and Church), Bastille (Icarus, Kindness, The Anchor), One Republic’s Native Album, American Authors’ Deep Waters, and summer sunsets.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?  

A10 : Too long, I got distracted and then stumped on some questions. Say, two days?

[the-swan-star]

About

The Basics:

What is your full name? Cygnus Midas Black III

Do you have any nicknames? Cyg, Pheonica 

Where were you born? In Black Manor

When is your birthday? January 13

What are your parents’ names?  Pollux and Araminta

Do you have any siblings? Yes

Do you have any children? Yes, three lovely daughters.

Do you have a significant other/are you married? I have a lover, Abraxas and a wife, Druella. It is rather lucky they get along. Well most of the time but no one is perfect. 

What is your occupation? I work in the Department of Mysteries, the Time room to be exact. 

What is your blood status? Pure-blood

Appearance:

How do you typically dress? It depends on what I’m doing that day. But for work I usually wear a nicer version of casual wear and so on. I don’t need to be tampering with time in a suit. 

What color are your eyes? Grey

What color is your hair and how long is it? I’m the only Black with blond hair, rather ironic that. And I kept it long in my youth but now well it was quite regrettably chopped off in the Time room one afternoon. It’s taking quite a while to grow it back. 

Do you have any notable scars, tattoos, or birthmarks? I have a scar, well it looks more like an imprint actually, from where Walburga pushed me down the stairs. The bruise, which still holds the shape of the stairs, still remains. I have a small scar next to my ear from where a book fell on me in the library. And another by my eye when it was scraped as I fell off my broom. There’s another from when I went traveling with Abraxas in Africa. Rather deep claw marks from a rather upset lion. It was aiming for Abraxas but I’m not sorry to say it got a rather unfortunate chunk of me. 

Is there any jewelry you regularly wear? I quite like earrings and pocket watches. I’ll wear a few bracelets but they have to be heavy. 

Do you have any quirks, mannerisms, or other defining characteristics? Other than my aptitude for the fire arts?

School:

What school did you go to? If applicable, what house were you in? Hogwarts. I was placed in Slytherin with the rest of my family though I made sure never to tell Walburga the hat almost put me in Hufflepuff. 

Best subject: Astronomy, for obvious reasons. I guess the constellation names of the Blacks are good for something. Or maybe my love of stars is to blame. Maybe both. 

Worst subject: Potions. Every time I go near a cauldron it explodes. I swear they hate me.  

Favorite Subject: Other than astronomy? Perhaps history. 

Were you part of any clubs or sports teams? No I was quite happy to find other extracurricular activities to spend my spare time in. 

Are you still friends with people from school? I would say yes. I had quite a few friends, we keep in touch. 

Relationships:

How close are/were you to your parents? Not very, I’ve heard more words spoken between Alphard’s parrot and myself than my parents. They left me mostly alone unless they wanted something. 

What is your spouse/significant other like? Druella can be quite interesting. I love her in her own way. Though when she’s angry she reminds me of a ice sculpture the way she freezes. She beautiful though and gave me my daughters. For which I’m grateful. Abraxas though, we’ve been inseparable for years. I don’t think I could live without him, it’s hard enough when he leaves for ambassador meetings and I’m too busy to go. It hurts rather horribly. Lonely, well that word doesn’t do it justice now does it?

What is your relationship with your siblings like? I would love nothing more than to drown Walburga in the bathroom sink but Alphard is quiet and a good study partner and as long as he doesn’t pick a side in one of Walburga and I’s legendary fights then I consider us close. 

Who are your friends? Too many to name I’m afraid. I have several, some are close, some are distant. It would take me all day to name them all. 

Do you have any enemies? Yes but doesn’t everyone?

Do you care about what other people think of you? I hate to say it but yes, I’ve just become a master of letting it roll off my back. 

The Past:

What is your earliest memory? Nothing interesting I’m afraid. I was watching the grandfather clock in the hallway. I hid inside it when I heard Walburga screeching. 

How would you describe your childhood? Full of curiosities, time to learn and explore.  

What is your best memory? When the Malfoy Chaser took me up on a broom for the first time. I really hadn’t meant to faint but honestly it was so worth it. 

What is your worst memory? When I had to marry my daughters off to save them from Walburga and the madness.  

What were your favorite activities as a child? I loved and still love to fiddle with clocks. Take them apart put them back together, see how they tick. I also love riding, there’s nothing like it honestly. 

What is your biggest regret? Going on that trip to Egypt and leaving Andromeda to the mercy of Walburga. I should have known better, Burgie is always looking for a fight. 

If you could change one thing about your past, what would it be and why? Other than drowning Walburga in the bathroom sink? Probably smothering Orion with that gorgeous tapestry I know he hates. 

Let’s Get Personal:

What is your patronus? A Trumpeter swan. 

What is your boggart? My fire, and accidentally burning someone I care about. 

How would you describe the scent of amortentia? Gunpowder, clove cigarettes, African sun kissed water, mint, Sun-baked dirt during rain and a slice of ice. 

When was your first kiss? Fourth year with one of the upper years. Had to experiment sometime!

Have you ever been in love? Yes.

Are you a virgin? Ha! Not since fifth year thanks. I started early, but what can I say? I was a curious one.  

How active is your sex life? As active as I can possibly achieve without dying of exhaustion.

Likes/Dislikes:

What is your favorite food? Melted chocolate, especially if it’s chocolate mint.  

What is your least favorite food? Cherries. I can’t stand them, they’ve got all these pits in them and it’s just gross all around. 

What is your favorite color? Stormcloud grey. 

Do you smoke? No. I never had the taste for it.  

Do you drink? Yes, usually as much as I can get my hands on at the current time.

How do you spend your Friday nights? I don’t really have a set Friday night specific schedule. I could be at work or at home drinking tea. I could be talking with Druella or cuddling with Abraxas. It all really depends. 

What is your favorite book? The Song of Achilles

What is your favorite animal? A Siberian Tiger

What are your favorite and least favorite spells? Favorite: The Patronus Charm. Least favorite: Crucio

About Me:

What is your daily routine like? That really depends on what time I end up at work. The Time Room keeps odd hours and so therefore so do I. I try and have lunch with a friend or Druella. Dinner is iffy honestly most of the time I have a tendency to skip if I’m working. Evenings I’ll often either spend with my daughters, Druella or Abraxas. It changes rather often really. 

What are your strengths? I’m rather good at fire spells? But I’m sure we all understand why. My ability to care for others and my compassion.

What are your weaknesses? My fear of heights, my tendency to get easily seasick, my slight problem with almost getting eaten by everything - Abraxas. I think he’s over exaggerating I simply wanted to pet it. That was all.  

Do you like yourself? I’m afraid not. 

What is your most notable character trait? I tend to be rather affectionate.

Favorite thing about your appearance? The claw marks on my forearm. They make for an interesting story piece and the girls love making up stories for it. It’s also for the fact that those scars are present so that Abraxas didn’t acquire another pair.  

Least favorite thing about your appearance? My short hair. I’d like to grow it out again someday. 

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Extrovert. 

[driftwork]

watching terrible events unfold - an epee-graph told from the future - appendix 5

She was making tea when he arrived back from Edinburgh.  After a while she began to tell him  about her day and how it was a little like a job she had done years ago in Osaka.  They were by this time always talking about their personal histories, speaking of the things that they could not, dared not share with anyone. As she told him about this moment of her life, her language was as fuzzy as it could be and remain understandable. (Earlier today, lying on the hillside, thinking about the sense of deja vu, the already-seen, thinking that it has happened  before. Even though Osaka was very different. The explanations of what they'd be doing,  whilst you were in Edinburgh and I was working and watching, didn't feel reassuring as I looked down from where the field turns into woodland watching through the scopes.)

My trip was planned in fine detail. I arrived in Kobe and rented a car for five days, the clerk was bored. You can leave it at any Hertz office she told me. The light was beautiful, the pylons on the highway were clearly visible even in the early evening. The landscape c.   was featureless, it was November and the vegetation was very sparse and grey. In Osaka she/I left the car in the overflow carpark and went into the hotel. She tells him that I found him in the bar, he seemed like precisely the kind of disposable commodity I needed to distract herself  [...] I don't remember anything about him, he asked her what she thought about it. It wasn't easy finding any words. it was late, tiredness  weighed upon me. I wanted to go to sleep but he wanted to stay awake and have sex again. I would have preferred to sleep as I had to leave early in the morning to drive into Osaka. I remember looking out at the lights of the bay, a dry breeze was blowing out past the hotel towards the bay. It was November and cold. There were three or four people on the terrace of the hotel two floors below the bedroom windows. He was stroking my back, tracing the lines of the tattoo. He was talking about going to the modern art museum tomorrow. It was late and he was tired as well, he must have thought I was going to go with him,   occasionally he'd pause searching for the right word, and in those lapses she thought about driving at dawn towards Osaka. I listened to the owls calling outside as he became more insistent in his stroking and speaking, holding my right breast. He spoke of the klees and the massons in the museum. I told him that I was looking forward to it. The lapses in words and sentences as her attention wandered more, in her life life avoiding surveillance. (I lay back and almost enjoyed myself. When he was asleep I injected him with the anesthesia. I had a shower, laid out clothes for the morning. And then slept on the sofa. (he smiled at her, you and sofas)) He hadn't moved all night, I got dressed, checked his pulse which was slow but even. Handcuffed him to the bed. Took his car keys, wallet and left him. Putting a do not disturb notice on the door.

I understood, understood perfectly, thinking that he would eventually forget.

[Actually I remember that the  man had spent a long time in a country that was a police state. I drove towards Osaka, occasionally thinking of the man chained to the bed in the hotel. it was five in the morning. The man who is left behind in the hotel, confusedly told a version of this story to the police later that day. In amongst his long ex-cursive  rambling, painstakingly recorded by the two detectives who mistakenly decided he had been robbed by a prostitute, he did not tell them about the tattoos, in fact it was this simple absence from his description which made the detectives file the recording as minor theft. The man told his stories to himself word by word, sentence by sentence, editing and contracting, and he wrote a novella which he published in japanese and english, in a way one might say it was written in his memory and then committed to paper. 

[>> Did you read the story ? << >>  No, just the first couple of pages, he seem to think that his female protagonist was ill. << ]] I  was long gone by then, vanished back into Tokyo.

She/I parked the car in the drive of the big empty house in Osaka.________.______  and went and watched the house of the target. On the other side of the low wall at the back of the house. There were birds feeding outside the kitchen windows. Thesus and his wife Penelope occasionally came into the kitchen to make tea and take small hammers and knives deeper into the house. I watched the birds and them until after lunch. Took the gun and went over the low wall into the garden and the house. Looking round the house she/I found the teenager in chains on the floor. I left Thesus and Penelope dead in the bathroom. Packed the girls fingers in ice, bandaged the girls hands and drove her to the accident and emergency in the NdA hospital in Osaka before driving out of Osaka on the E2A. My father was furious at me for not killing the girl, everyone, you were told everyone, he screamed. She was supposed to die not be rescued. Nobody told me about the girl, only about them. She explained unheard in the torrent of abuse. He swings his hand to slap her face, she moves backwards,swaying to the side refusing the slap. She didn't say anything, suffering the abuse as she had for twenty years. In this  there are two actual truth events: I thought about harming my father for the first time as he shouted, and the money that was not paid because the girl lived may have caused the war that followed later and brought me here. Later that month I killed Achilles in Seoul [...]

[ >> He said.My biggest regret from before is a case where  I arrested a woman who killed her husband. She is still in jail and shouldn’t be. The person I am now, living with  you would ensure she was not arrested. << >> Why, the change? << she asked. >> We are a war machine, somehow that means we need to be ethical, whereas before i was merely police, a representative of law... << She smiles at him - >> You are my bag carrier.<< She said.... >> Always, you know that don't you. << He said.  She smiles >> Only as a war machine can we counter the world machine we live within << >> or live at all... <<  He responded.]

(I was lying on the hillside, thinking about the sense of deja vu, the already-seen, thinking that it has happened  before. The explanations of what they'd be doing,  whilst you were in Edinburgh and I was watching and didn't feel reassured as I looked down from where the field turns into woodland watching events unfold through the scopes.)  The already seen and lived  endured, perhaps it was stronger than I was seeing. A filter sprayed over the surrounding reality, the woods, field, gardens and the detached houses. I felt a touch of vertigo and was tempted to let go and fall into it not knowing what her automatic responses would act like, but only for a moment. Remembering Osaka and all that had been set in motion, the strange metamorphosis that ended with my lying here. A corrupted assassin. The deja vu marked the differences between her then and now, the euphoria of that realization.  The thought of the lack of melancholy, and I wondered if my psychopathology meant that she/I could never be melancholic. This sense of finite liberation however... I was lying down in a hollow on a ground sheet and covered by another one that is pegged down, her feet are slightly lower down than her head and shoulders. About 75 feet higher than her primary target. The police she is watching are in a house, and they are in turn watching the house opposite. It amuses me that they were watching the suspected murderer whilst I watched them. I imagine that they are getting a warrant  to enter the house later today or tomorrow. I watched, interested in the processes of police surveillance. It is remarkably labour intensive, I thought. Eight hour shifts,  Three shifts a day,  two people plus visitors per shift. [>>That is not how they are surveilling us, with us they are using long term passive surveillance, probably imperceptible. <<  >>People and things close to us? she asks  << >> yes.<< ] At that moment there are five police in the house. One is watching the house, and presumably the street, one is talking to the DCI, and the DCS, there is also a DS. The DCI and probably the DCS will leave to collect the warrant. So later tonight they will enter the house she imagines. She doesn't understand why there is not a human manned observation post along the treeline watching the rear of the house.  Through the other scope she can see the head of the young woman perhaps its a teenager that they are torturing. The woman is in the room at the moment. ( I wondered if you would mind me breaking into the house and harming the man and woman. The whole point of the exercise was watching. But it would be quite nice to hurt them, possibly permanently.) She only has a few hours before she must leave and go home. Perhaps she should break in and force the police to act act act.  I have become such an angel she thinks, what i really need is a decent rifle to put a bullet through that woman’s head or better still that man's body as he is standing outside the patio door smoking a cigarette. An Angel. perhaps i should simply rescue the girl it would be quicker and more certain than waiting for the police. The sense of finite liberation as she thinks about the options she has,  which is like understanding  something she'd known all along, since Osaka at least, but didn't really want to know.  The already-seen was telling her her that even as she was psychopathically inclined to not care about others, this life she was leading meant she was perhaps beginning to care, capturing it in a future about to be lived.  She watches a red kite wheeling through the air above her. She has been here since 4AM, about twelve hours. He will be leaving Edinburgh soon, perhaps he already has, on a train and she needs to be back home in time to make the house look lived in. She smiles at such an absurd thought. She watches the police and thinks she should hurry this along so she can have a shower before he gets back, she doesn't want to leave the two people torturing and possibly killing the girl because she left it to the police. Eventually and reluctantly: she packs her bag, remembering packing a different bag in Osaka and  puts on the shoulder holster beneath her leather jacket, reties her boots, checks the gun. Packs up the ground sheet. Puts the scopes in their case and sits cross legged with her bag beside her. Sighs, relieved in knowing that he'd forgive her whatever she did.  She picks up her phone and sits cross legged. "Hello Frank it’s Park...Don’t hang up. Put me on speaker, Hello Jean. She can hear people moving. "I am watching the man and woman in no 38 torture a young woman. Can you go in and rescue her or do you need me to enable that.  Frank is asking about where the young woman is. She tells him. He speaks with Jean, they agree. She thinks they’ll shout at him tomorrow. He says could you make sure they can't escape from the back whilst we go in the front. OK, I'm sorry Frank, you can shout at me on saturday. He hangs up. She watched them go in. Nobody came out the back. Sounds of violence, more police arriving, ambulances...  [He said "That's good,  for if we'd had to leave it would have been like Thomas in the Peter Stamm novel and I don't think we could do that now..."] As she drove along the road amongst the beech trees that was taking her  back towards the house, she knew that at a certain point she'd see a rusty old iron sign on which the direction and distance to her destination was written. And that she'd follow the direction, nothing was clear but she hadn't hurt anyone.

Now they were sitting on the sofa, the TV playing some inane French movie about a histrionic murderess. The sound was off. He asked her "What happened to the girl in Osaka?" "I was wearing a singlet, I had a single dragon tattoo at the time, with dark glasses and a baseball cap on, I half carried her to accident and emergency, gave them her fingers on ice. Told them I was her guardian. Said her name was Osaka and that I'd fetch her documents. She became protected, our responsibility. My family never forgave me for that either. After that i don’t really know. she left i think"