Violet Villeneuve

Physical Description

General Physical Condition

Violet is a tall, willowy woman. She is in good health but with little muscle mass.

Body Features

Violet has no tattoos or scars, but is rumored to have a mole in an intimate area.

Facial Features

Violet's eyes are, well, violet. She has a ready smile with dimples.

Identifying Characteristics

Her large ears that twitch at the nearest sound.

Physical quirks

Her eyes flash a deep green when utilizing her Warlock magic.

Apparel & Accessories

Violet is fond of long dresses that show off her long legs.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Violet was born in Montaigne, but has spent the last 7 years in Eisen for schooling. She grew up in a very comfortable lifestyle, with her parent's flush with adventurer cash. Her current lifestyle is much more modest. Violet has a mother and father, Viviane Villeneuve and Coppletop Villeneuve. Her father is a Harengon Artificer and her mother is an Elven Wizard, both are famous adventurers. She did not inherit the genius of her parents, and only recently discovered her Warlock abilities, during a botched kidnapping attempt.

Education

Violet received an expensive education, with numerous tutors that were there to foster any Arcane inclinations that never developed. She eventually accrued enough ire of her professors to be expelled from University.

Employment

Most recently she has been employed by the Circus outside of Novandria, as a sword juggler and performer.

Personality Characteristics

Motivation

Violet is motivated to better herself to make her parents finally proud of her. She has recently discovered a love of performance.

Daughter of famous heroes, but not the inheritor of their legacy. Forging her own path in a foreign land.

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Age

Date of Birth

April 12, 1862

Children

Gender

Female

Eyes

Violet

Hair

Black

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Ivory

Height

6'4" with 6" of ears

Weight

166lbs

Half Dead

*How can you live like this? You're exposed! Let other's fight FOR you!* "At least I'm alive, and not drenched in death," she hisses back to her empty room, her tea cold in her cup. How long had the other Violet been here this time? She shivers and reaches for a decanter and brandy instead.

Careless Whispers

Violet lies sprawled out on an overstuffed bed of the House of Scarlet Silks, basking in the afterglow of a particularly needed liaison. Her chosen confidante watches her with an enigmatic smile, brushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. She smiles and kisses the manicured hand. “I really needed that,” she says while stretching. “I am glad to serve,” the confidante, Phillip, replies. “And honored to introduce you to the pleasures of my sex.” Violet blushes fiercely. “If I am going to serve here, I should be educated in the proper way a lady should be treated. So thank you, again.” “I am sure it would have been included in your education, so why seek me out now?” Violet sits up on the bed, her face clouded. “I don’t know. It is different for me to pick you, maybe. And I did not want to embarrass myself later.” “There would have been nothing to be embarrassed about. We all have to learn, and all come to the House with different experiences.” “I don’t want to let her down,” Violet says softly, hugging her knees. “She really believes in me.” “Ah, well,” he says, sitting up with her, but giving her space. “I am sure Mistress Alkestis would say you could not let her down. But I understand, really.” She nods and pulls the Elven man to her. He cuddles her expertly, brushing her stomach with his fingers. She sighs happily. “You are very good at that.” “I worked hard to become so,” he smirks, into her shoulder. “If I may,” he says hesitantly, “I share our Mistresses opinion. You are going to do well here, if you work at it.” “My Mother was not happy with my choice,” she says, changing the subject. “They never are,” the words are carefully neutral. “I just want her to be proud of me, for being me.” “She will. Or if not, you find your own family here in the House. There is no shame in finding your own family who values you.” She sets her shoulder and pouts. He chuckles. “Think about it, at least.” “I will,” she lies as easily as she breathes.

Violence
November 27, 1882.

"Violent V," Fix calls me. The colorful half-elf has a nickname for everyone, whether to imprint themselves on their chaotic mind or just because some Eisen names are honestly difficult to pronounce, I can not say. But the title thrills me. Fills me with the image of all the strength I had gained... over night. I had been helpless so long, aside from a carefully cultivated mask of contempt I wore to keep myself safe as a Villeneuve without magic. But then, the kidnapping. All of my sharp words, and threats, and then desperate tricks, failed. My would-be captors were ready for all of them, carefully researched to ransom or leverage my powerful parents. But someone intervened: a Queen. And I was set free. But the sheen has worn off. My Patron has come calling, and named me her Champion. To steal a blade from a Demon Lord of Undeath. It seems... impossible. A life's quest. I crowed to the Ravens that I had not the strength to fell a god YET, and they raucously echoed my words. The Queen chose her fool well, it seems. But there is another Patron. A rose in scarlet silks who wants the old me. The soft me I had nearly forgotten, who I had buried back in Montaigne. A calling not of domination, but of submission. Well, maybe domination too. I don't know if I can be molded how she wants. She is a gifted teacher, but I'm a dull tool and an oddity besides. Alex insists I have potential. I want to believe her. But I've been wrong about myself before. Killer of Gods? I saw death in that house. Not the fake death of Halloween. But real mortality. Writ large on lashing toothed tendrils, that were a second from snapping me in half. Some warrior I am. Some protector. I'm just 'that Villeneuve girl,' still.

What Dreams May Come After the Witch House
30th of October 1882.

Wherever Violet ended up after the shared experiences of herself and the other adventurers in the Barker House... She sleeps fitfully, soaked in sweat, and muttering. Eventually she gives up and goes to make some tea. She rubs her puffy eyes as she waits on the kettle to boil, and sits down at the table with a groan. Real or not, the hazards in that hells-damned house still affected her. The physical pain she can live with, and stand. An old friend to distract her from much more painful wounds. Of never being acknowledged or praised. Being sent to boarding school in a strange country. Being cut off from financial support when she inevitably failed out of university. The shrill whistle of the kettle interrupts her dark ruminations. No more. She was going to perform not under her harlequin mask and pseudonym, but as Violet Villeneuve, daughter of Vivian and Coppletop. She won't be afraid of what they might think. She will be proud of herself, and what she's accomplished. Maybe some day they might even notice her accomplishments.

Violet Villeneuve