Veyle
Shameless - Animated - Cunning
Pet Name: Veyle
Owner: Chandler
Theme / Type: Wintercursed Jinx
Born: January 1, 2010
Gender: Female
Collection: 4
Mood: Mad
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 10 / 10
Strength: 6
Defense: 8
Speed: 5
Intellect: 5
Misticpower: 7
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 0/1155 [ View Foods ]
SHY. /coughs (This is getting tiresome to type out.) Thank you for yet another awesome gift! <3
She was given to me by Eme and will NOT be traded or adopted out.
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Artstuffs
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-[Name: Phoenix Dubois
-[Alias: Veyle
-[Age: 28
-[Gender: female
-[Hair|Eyes: black, mid-length | gold
-[SO: straight
-[Status: N/A
Shameless ;; Animated ;; Cunning
[A very blunt, biased, and saucy belly dancer whose life is less than perfect, and whose temper is never under control.]
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the egotistic, ancient god of death
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A woman sits before you at the opposite end of the table. Her name is Celeste Dubois. You're in a coffee shop together, waiting to begin her interview about one "Phoenix Dubois", a woman who had recently disappeared under suspicious circumstances. The sweet, aromatic scents of chocolate, warm milk, spices, and coffee beans waft around the little shop, making your nose itch and your stomach grumble. You take a surreptitious sip of your caramel latte, hoping to quiet it. You would get some lunch after this necessary inconvenience was over.
The blonde beauty before you rests her hands in her lap, repeating the question you had just asked her with a thoughtful expression. Her soft blue eyes are far away, looking for something you know she will never quite find, because if she could, you wouldn't need to be here. "What is my younger sister like? That's not exactly easy to answer. But I can tell you this; she is a spirited woman. Her eyes burn brightly, and the way she carries herself--it's like looking at a queen. You will remember her, if you ever see her. Although she doesn't have the best personality, men still sought her out, even after she made it clear she had no interest."
So far, that matched with the information received during your briefing, though it was worded a little more colorfully. You pull a lighter from your coat pocket, and carefully stick the energetic flame to the tip of a cigarette. "I can understand wanting to hook up with a pretty girl," you puff around the stick, "but why would men continue to pursue her after being turned down?"
Celeste fidgets nervously. "Well...to be honest, it's most likely due to her pheromones. She is, in a word, sexy. Very sexy. Men have always clung to her lustfully. It's not just that she has a well-developed body; Phoenix is also a skilled dancer, one of the few people at a professional level that aren't working under contract. As I said, she's spirited; not many can stand to work with her. And she spins them around her fingers, often egging them on. This combination seems to make her even more desirable, to certain tastes.
"Also, when she turned 17 and ran away from home, she began working in a...rather unsavory field, to say the least." The blonde looks away nervously, a light flush to her cheeks. "My sister has always been reckless with her body. In this particular case, she simply used her natural attraction to her advantage. She continued her work in said field for 8 years, using the money to pay rent and further her dancing skills."
"You said she ran away? She would be 28 now, correct?"
"About that...we aren't actually sure. You see, she was the product of an affair my father had with a woman while on duty in the Middle East. Her age was projected to be 28, but it could be more or less by 2 years. Probably less." Her mouth curls in distaste. "He didn't keep himself to just one woman either, there were at least 6 over the 3 years he was serving."
You arch your eyebrows at her words. That bit you hadn't known. This was likely due to the fact Celeste and Phoenix came from a wealthy family. Matters relating to infidelity within high society are usually kept quiet when and wherever possible. Frowning slightly, you jot this tidbit down on your notepad. It was interesting to hear that Phoenix was from the East; it would explain the skin color and slightly hooked nose.
You set your pen down. "Do you know what caused her to leave home?"
Celeste suddenly seems even more uncomfortable. It takes a while for her to answer, but finally she says, "There's only one reason I can think of. It would also explain her hatred of men, or at least where the seed for that hate came from. Shortly before she ran off, our father was talking of giving over her care to another family member. Our uncle, to be precise. He has always been a good man, but the same cannot be said of the young artist who was in his care at the time." She leans foreword, her expression pleading. "Please understand, this cannot get out. I'm only telling you because I feel it will help with your investigation. If these things become public, my father will be ruined."
"I will keep your words confidential, don't worry," you reply, although you can't see why she would worry about her father, who was nothing but a smooth talking, womanizing, and overall sleazy politician, in your humble opinion (and that of pretty much everyone else). "Now then, would you please continue?"
"Of course...let me think...his name was Damien. He was the son of a charming woman my uncle had fallen head over heels for. She was poor though, very poor. Her son was decently skilled with a paintbrush, and she wanted him to have an opportunity to learn how to paint. And thus, she asked for Damien to live with uncle, so he could have a better life. It's a pity that the lout didn't take after his mother. To keep things short, let me just say-" She cuts off abruptly, staring over your shoulder. Her eyes are wide and her jaw slack; amazement and shock are written clearly across her face. "Lord preserve us," she breathes.
You turn around quickly, curious to see what causes such a reaction out of your interviewee. The cigarette in your mouth drops right out. If you had expected something, this wasn't it.
Phoenix Dubois, her hard, beautiful eyes glittering like gold diamonds, looks at you and Celeste, hands on hips. She's dressed simply in a cutoff top and designer jeans. This woman isn't Hollywood gorgeous, but there is no contesting that she's a beauty. There is an air of self-assuredness around her that baffles you. You wanted to say that it was out of place here, but no...on Phoenix, it could fit anywhere. There is a distinctive smirk tugging about her mouth at your expression.
"What were you expecting, detective? A policeman? I'll tell you what happened with that scumbag. He taught me how to feel beaten and hopeless. How it felt to have everything I cherished taken away. He made me feel less than human. And he made me like it. I became addicted. It was disgusting, and I couldn't get enough."
She brings her hands down sharply on the table, body coiled tight with loathing and bitterness. "Back then I was still naive. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't want to know, so I believed him, I let him do as he liked with me out of guilt and fear, until my step mom found out. After that, I was taken back to live at the main house. I got an earful about keeping up appearances, the importance of a good reputation- my father's. As if he had one. Once the tirade was over, I thought 'Screw them' and ran like all Hell was after me."
Her eyes darken, and you feel as if you should step back. The fact you are sitting prevents this. You fidget on the chair instead. She eyes you scathingly. "Sorry, my snooping little friend, but my life's story can't be summed up in one, two, or even ten interviews. Bury all news of my 'disappearance'. Tell the authorities that I live, I'm safe, and to bug off. There's a reason I left. I'm tired of getting my ass hounded by bothersome people looking for inside news on my family. I want to stay away from it all." She leans across the table, handing Celeste a sealed envelope. You can smell a mixture of jasmine, lemon, and sandalwood drifting from her. And the slightest scent of wood smoke, oddly enough. "Sorry for not contacting you in a few months, sis." Celeste doesn't bother to say it had been nearly 5 months, not just a few.
"I was moving, so things got a bit busy. I've explained everything in that letter. You can use the address on the front, but don't let others get it. I've also included my new email and messenger addresses. And you, the detective." She stares at your nameplate. "What the hell? I can't read that...the letters are microscopic." You hated to admit it, but your name was written very small, due to its length."Okay, whoever-you-are, your cigarette is burning a hole into the table. If you don't pick it up soon, I don't need to tell you what will happen."
With that she glides out of the coffee shop, her raven hair reflecting softly in the florescent light. You gaze after her, speechless. Then you recall what she said about the cigarette, and hurry to stick it on the tray, patting the smoking table top vigorously with your hands. Outside, the slow patter of rain can be heard striking the window. You recline back in the chair, look at the raindrops sliding down the glass through the haze of condensation masking its outer surface. You continue to stare, your mind a muddled mess. Only one thought remains clear; you wonder 'when did the weather turn'?
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Now I live every day like there'll never be a last one
Till they're gone and they're gone
And I'm too proud to beg for your attention
And your friendship and your time
So you can come and get it from now on
Here I am, I'm so young
I know I've been bitter, I've been jaded, I'm alone
Everyday I'll bite my tongue
If you only knew my mind was full of razors
That cuts you like a word if only sung
This is my song, it's my song
My Song x Brandi Carlile
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| Gaelic says (@Chandler) Gen has just noticed that your Wishlist link isn't working... *wicked grin* ^^ |
| Haides says Not at all. Do you mind if I choose to interpret it as you finally admitting that you cannot bear to be away from me? |
| says *peers at* |
| Weenie says Oh, it's possible, believe me. But, I'm underaged; I wouldn't drink any anyway. I'm kinda -pauses- lightweight... He he. Umm, is this a costumed party? [Mar suddenly realized that he was out in the public with nothing to hide his face with. Why this had just occurred to him now, he figured, was that he was too busy being distracted by her] |
| Weenie says *Mar jumps, startled by her* Okay, okay. I'll act cool for you. *He takes a deep breath, then strokes his hair back* So, uh, what kinda people are going to be here? |
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