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Blanche Herveaux

"C'est comme ma mere me disait-- hold yourself with poise and everything else follows."

0 · 444 views · located in Titanic Ship

a character in “April 1912”, as played by hotairballoon




"Human beings need to have elegance in their actions and in their posture because this word is synonymous with good taste, amiability, equilibrium and harmony."
-Paulo Coelho

x x



Full Name
Blanche Adele Herveaux

Date of Birth
September 17, 1887



Social Class

Relationship Status
In a loveless arranged engagement with a stranger




5 feet and 5 inches

120 pounds

Not very curvy and rather slim-- some might say too thin. She holds herself very carefully to appear poised and elegant, but there is a barely perceptible shame to her movements, like she's trying to make herself disappear.

Distinguishable Marks?
Blanche has a light brown birthmark at the base of her neck shaped like the continental US. It's hereditary-- all of the women on her paternal side have it.

Eye Color

Strawberry blonde to auburn

Standard Attire
Blanche wears clothing that is simple and modest but well-made. Clothing and jewelry were often poor substitutes for parental love given by her father, so these clothes are often expensive, foreign, and handcrafted, but they don't look particularly gaudy. One could tell she was first class, but not the exact extent of her riches, by looking at her attire.

Overall Attractiveness
Blanche has attracted male attention her whole life, due in part to her clear skin and big eyes but also in part to her father's position. She has never been able to distinguish the two, and as she has never been much interested in pursuing any of these suitors, it never bothered her. Instead, she is satisfied to consider herself of average attractiveness, a non-sexual being, since the topic of sex has never arisen in a serious enough manner to be considered.



Playing the violin and flute, painting, ballet dancing; occasionally Blanche will help to bake or cook in the kitchen, but only under direct orders from her parents to learn such skills. All of her hobbies have been crafted by her parents to make her the optimal wife and renaissance lady. She seems like a jack of all trades, but she is truly only a master of violin. Everything else is just white noise, something she does for no reason other than to appease her parents.

Plays a musical instrument?
Blanche's main instrument has always been violin and she pours all of her passion into it, but flute is a second love. She picks up musical instruments quickly and briefly played the piano, but violin and flute are the only instruments at which she could be considered fluent or talented.

Spending habits
Not as extravagant as it could be, given the wealth of her father, but she still spends considerable amounts of money on non-necessities.

Blanche has never smoked as the opportunity has never shown itself to her, and she would likely deny a cigarette at first, but she is not immune to peer pressure, and it very likely that she will smoke on the boat. She was always discouraged from the practice until marriage because it would make her breath stink, but everyone around her always smoked and she often wondered what it would feel like.

Blanche drinks wine and champagne but rarely gets tipsy and never drinks hard alcohol or gets drunk. She was taught that it's rude to decline a drink as long as you keep your wits about you. Again, this could change on the boat.

Blanche wrings her hands together when she's nervous or stressed, a quirk she picked up from her dad. This is usually accompanied by a deep sigh, a quirk she picked up from her mom. She also rubs her fingertips together. She used to pick at the skin there, but she was beaten for her bloody fingertips and violin stopped giving her calluses a long time ago. The rubbing is a residual of this behavior. Blanche blinks a lot when she has to public speak or lie, but she never stutters and her voice can travel far.


Greatest Joys In Life
Violin, gardening, conversation, being in nature, speaking French

Greatest Fears
Never being happy, disappointing people, losing the ability to play violin

In order: music, her own opinion of herself (regarding her elegance/poise), the opinions of those closest to her (regarding her elegance/poise). Her personal happiness/fulfillment is barely ever considered.

Blanche Herveaux was raised to be a lady. She learned to say her prayers and smile but not speak and how to stay orderly while eating a steak dinner, and this training overflows into her personality. Being around Blanche is like being around the physical manifestation of a radio voice. She smiles politely and holds her hands very carefully, only speaking when spoken to and with very much poise, carefully making sure she doesn't show her accent or slip into French. Or, perhaps, this is what is it like to know Blanche if you are a stranger. That's because her elegance was cultivated, not innate, and so there is a side of her that very much would love to be loud and get drunk and take off her shoes. She has never acted on this impulse, pushes it away in the same catalog into which the average person might file away an addiction. She doesn't indulge that side of herself, has been taught that it would only lead to trouble.

Blanche is not gullible, but she often seems this way. She was educated by the finest governesses, but she behaves as if more social cues go over her head than truly do. As is her reasoning for most things, she does this is a convoluted effort to be polite; she knows that being caught in a lie is humiliating and attempts to forego causing this embarrassing situation for others. Instead, she'll smile and nod, filing it away in her opinion of the person or mumbling something to herself in French.

If you are her friend, Blanche becomes different. Growing up she never had very many friends, and she comes alive in company. It doesn't take her long to warm up to someone-- that is, once she is convinced they don't want anything from her. She gets this twinkle in her eye and will lean in, touching her friend's arm and cracking jokes, allowing herself to slip in French sayings and words. Her few friends have said that she becomes rather like a man when she's drunk or in good company. She jokes and swears like a sailor, but keeps an elegance about her that perhaps is only in her tone of voice and posture. It's her version of the je ne sais quoi that dancers carry with them everywhere they go, the one that makes a walk down a staircase seem exquisite and practiced.

The types of people who Blanche likes to surround herself with are intelligent and humorous. Although she doesn't crack jokes until she is very comfortable with a person, she has a very developed sense of humor and finds people with no comedic talent to be bland. She enjoys the company of men more than that of women because she's found that they are more likely to be educated and quick-witted enough to keep up with her. Not that she doesn't enjoy the company of women, but the women whom she was surrounded with during her developmental years were vapid and dull. Blanche has never been allowed to socialize much to men her own age, one of the numbered things she is looking forward to on the boat.

Because she enjoys those who can make her experience new and exciting things with just a conversation, Blanche enjoys conversations with lower classes thoroughly. Her fascination with the third-class families in the streets of London has carried over, and she leaves every conversation with a lower-class person feeling amazed and shocked. She feels as if she can really let go in front of these people and become the swearing, boisterous girl she had to suppress. Sometimes she can come off as condescending because she asks questions like "But where ever do you people use the toilet?" frequently; she isn't trying to come off as superior, but instead it is her genuine curiosity shining through. Curiosity is a big trait of Blanche's, although she has never been able to indulge it through real-life adventures. Instead she quenches this curiosity with new languages and violin pieces and novels, ignoring the girl who claws at her insides, begging to be let out.

Despite her overwhelming desire for social interaction, Blanche is a lone wolf. She is a lone wolf in that she is self-sustaining, independent, and able to find joy in time spent alone. Blanche created this trait as a defense mechanism to the loneliness she was forced to undergo in her childhood, but she believes it is one of the few good things to come out of her unorthodox upbringing.


She mostly enjoys music which she could play: Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, and other classical composers. Although her father brought back a phonograph from America, he kept it in his bedroom, where Blanche was forbidden from entering, so the music she listened to was mostly that which she played herself.

Like most things in life, Blanche enjoys the French version. She loves the cheese and the chocolate and everything in between. But she has also been brought to the homes of diplomats from all around the globe, and she has tastes that are much more exotic than most would expect from her. Some of her favorites include spicy food, especially curry, and anything she can eat with chopsticks.

Most of Blanche's literary interests are spilt over from her school days, when she practically only read Latin. Some of her favorites are still Ovid and Homer, but as she grew older, she also grew to appreciate popular writers like Gaston Leroux and Maurice Leblanc.

Forms of entertainment
Playing violin, spending time outdoors, stargazing, writing in a journal, daydreaming, talking with people, singing to herself.


Blanche wasn't always so prim and proper; from birth her complexion has been pale and serene, her eyes calm and green, but her actions did not always reflect these attributes. As soon as she could crawl, her tiny fingers grabbed onto bits of crayon, pencils and pens, lipstick and anything else to draw all over the walls of her estate. The estate could nearly be described as a palace it was so immense; imagine a sprawling green lawn, glistening white walls, chandeliers, animal pelt rugs, and a help staff whose size rivaled that of the White House. Blanche was raised by this help-- by a governess or a maid, but never her mother, who was too busy laughing over white wine with her rich friends. The help would slap Blanche's hand and put her back into her high chair and scrub the floor until it glistened again, and in this way, she learned the trade of poise. She learned that this word was synonymous with grinning and bearing it.

Blanche's father was an ambassador of France and somewhat of a purist. He insisted upon his child being raised in typical style; she was classically trained in violin from the age of 4 and taught manners in a fashion that was just short of carrying books atop her head. In contrast, she wasn't taught English until the age of 8, when she was whisked away from the comforts of Marseille, France to the hustle and bustle of London. She still lived in a big house with nannies and and chandeliers and animal pelt rugs, but her childhood and a language that didn't make her tongue feel thick and ugly were back in France.

Soon she adapted, acting like the lady she had been trained to be. Just as her manners stayed unflinchingly proper in the continued absence of her parents, her violin remained a constant in her life. Blanche turned to playing whenever stress became overwhelming or the desire to burst out in emotion was too much. Anywhere she went, she didn't have friends, but she forgot to be alone when she filled her empty house with Bach's Partita No. 2 in D minor. The power she held with the bow was enough to calm her down from any turmoil she faced, and she thanked her father every day for making her pick up the hobby. It was the only thing she thanked him for anymore.

Looking down on the streets of London from her bedroom, Blanche got an idea of what was normal, and she wanted it desperately. Of course, she would never let this show; such fantasies were childish and very unladylike. She knew she would get spanked for it, had gotten hit with a belt over much less. So instead she played her violin, looking out of her window and playing for all of the things she would never get to experience.

Around the age of 19, it became strange to Blanche's parents that she did not find herself infatuated with any male suitors. It wasn't too late for marriage, they reasoned with her, but that time would come sooner than expected. They disguised this as parental love when really it was a desire to get their only child out of the house. She was a strain on their wallets and their already busy schedules, simple as that. The way they saw it, everyone would be better off if Blanche were busy with a nice husband and a baby or two. On her 23rd birthday, her parents' urgency escalated, and her father began to set her up with business associates. These men were mostly curmudgeonly, old, and decidedly ugly. Needless to say, Blanche did not take a liking to any of them. She didn't tell her father this. Instead, she would slip strange things into the conversation so the suitor would express disinterest and mumble her opinions of these men into her pillow since no one else was there to listen. "Je pense qu'il était à voile et à vapeur." "Il a transpiré comme une pute." ("I think he was queer." "He sweated like a whore.")

By the time that she was 24, her parents decided that it was enough. Her father had been corresponding with a partner in New York, and she was to be sent to him immediately for marriage. This wasn't the way it had to be, they told her, but you made us do this. She didn't cry, just as she didn't cry when she was plucked from France and thrown into London. She simply packed her bags and prepared for her voyage aboard the RMS Titanic, curtsying to her parents before she left and thanking them for the life they had given her and the one she'd have in America.

Reason for boarding Titanic
Her arranged marriage. Blanche is very upset about the whole ordeal, but has vowed to keep her composition and be a good wife for her new husband. The way she sees it, she still has her violin, and that will make anything okay. She's looking forward to the boat, which will be the first time she's free from the oppressive boot of deferred parenting.


• Username - hotairballoon
• Timezone - EST
• How Often Do You Post - Frequently and as needed

So begins...

Blanche Herveaux's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Caspian Mar Grey Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Schoen, Madame Jaqueline Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell Character Portrait: Chun-Hwa Mun Character Portrait: Henry R. Nelson Character Portrait: Amelia V. Nelson Character Portrait: Blanche Herveaux Character Portrait: Jewett, Paul Mr. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Timothy P. Silver Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Arthur McGhee Character Portrait: Abia Crane Character Portrait: William Crane Character Portrait: Stas Kelevra Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood Character Portrait: Noah Cobain Character Portrait: Xavior G. Kennedy
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Date: Wednesday, 10 April 1912. xxxLocation: Southampton, England. xxx
Arrival Time: 9:30 a.m xxx Time of Departure: 11:30 a.m. xxxWeather: Brisk winds northwest at 15-20 mph; 50°C

"Aye, batte'n down the hatches will ya'?"

"Are my eyes deceiv'n me, or am I seein' this ship's ready to land?"

"Eeeeh, boy!"

"I'm needin' help to pull this lever."

"Ready to land, Captain!"

A slow, crooked smile had spread across Captain Smith's face resembling that of much content. The great ocean liner had took approximately three years to construct, engineered to be the largest and most luxurious steam ship in the world. Its very first voyage would truly be something worth remembering; articles about the ship were thus written, claiming it to be a marvel of modern engineering. Both men, women, and children alike came fleeing from their homeland to get a glimpse of the monstrous beauty that dared hinge itself onto the British port as if it was the only thing that withheld dominance. The passengers to board the luxury ocean liner were nonetheless grateful. Many had lifted their chins up in prestige because not only were they able to gain enough money to enter, but they were the first to do so. Street market sells boomed significantly, men were getting their beard groomed quickly as their wives pimped their children for the long journey; brushing off any specks from the petticoats of young girls, and straightening their son's woolen jacket.

And, it all happened in a speck of time. Everyone clustering, like ants. It wasn't later until the ship's plank board was lowered had everyone began pushing and shoving for a leading spot up the ramp.

"You want first-class passengers to board first, Captain?" One of the ship's crew member approached him. It was no surprise that even the most wealthiest aristocats were given better treatment. To Captain Smith the first-class were 'walking money', they would surely help spread the word, and perhaps bring in even more fortune. "Yes," Smith assured, "let the first-class board first."

And, off the worker went to announce the news to the people who waited impatiently. "Listen up," he had to shout over the uproar, "so, far we have at least two thousand two hundred and twenty eight thousand of you. I want first-class passengers to board first, then second, and lastly third. I want this to be done in an orderly fashion. We will set off in approximately two hours."

At that the commotion grew much louder, people kissed their loved one's a farewell. It was a moment of ecstasy, all for the ship that deemed as virtually unsinkable, the Titanic was truly a phenomenon.

Mood: Observant xxx Outfit:herexxx Theme song: N.A. xxx

'Two hours, two hours, two hours ..'

Arthur McGhee felt the perspiration beginning to form at his temple, like thousands of tiny crystals scattered about his ivory skin. He wiped at it with the back of his hand as he chewed at his lower lip, it was a habit he had possessed since it was his conceitedness that got him stuck in the game of Cheat at the British port pub.

He remembered his words, a mockery as he smirked at the dunderheed that had just sent another man walking with loss. 'Ah bet yer ass I can win you at a game of cards. Aw or nothin', lad.' But, nevertheless it was those very words that had got him a pound short out of his pocket. If only he'd kept his mouth shut.

"You give'n up yet?" Arthur looked up from his stack of cards to the burly man who sat before him, the way his crusted lips curled back in amusement every moment he saw the poor Scott's exasperation.

He kept his answer short. "No." He concentrated on his next play.

He put down an ace, and at that, the man guffawed something bitter and awful that made Arthur fight the urge to hurl.

"You aren't gonna win, mate." Arthur ignored him as he put down a two.

Then, a four; six, eight, and before you know it he's all out of cards. Checkmate.

Arthur looked up at the man's now gawked expression, and smirked. "Mibbe ah jus did."

The guy was infuriated now as he looked at the cards, to Arthur, to the cards, then back up at Arthur. "Bullshit," he spat out a wad of tobacco juice out of the side of his mouth.

The man was nothing but muscle and tattoo compared to Arthur. However, as he said that Arthur couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed, and laughed until his sides were cramping; until the man grabbed at his white button down, and heaved him up from his chair. "I want a rematch". He demanded, spit freckling across Arthur's face.

"Not how it works." The man pushed Arthur against a wall; hard. Others began to move away immediately in the process at the same time the owner shouted for the two men to take their tussle outside, but he was only ignored. "Listen to me, mate. I will hurt-" he was distracted by Arthur's hand moving behind his ear, thus a silver dollar had appeared between his fingers as if by magic.

"Did you not hear me? Arthur's smile widened. "Yer outta luck, lassie." He threw the coin at the man's face, causing him to loose his grip on Arthur.

"Aye!" he called out as he saw the sly Scott scoop up a few coins from their table, including a third-class ticket to board the 'White Star Line', and ran free from the pub toward the grand ship.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Evan Tuck Character Portrait: Caspian Mar Grey Character Portrait: Daisy McGregor Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Schoen, Madame Jaqueline Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell Character Portrait: Chun-Hwa Mun Character Portrait: Henry R. Nelson Character Portrait: Amelia V. Nelson Character Portrait: Blanche Herveaux Character Portrait: Jewett, Paul Mr. Character Portrait: Ophelia Böhm Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Timothy P. Silver Character Portrait: Syllia Kelevra Character Portrait: Arthur McGhee Character Portrait: Abia Crane Character Portrait: William Crane Character Portrait: Stas Kelevra Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood Character Portrait: Noah Cobain Character Portrait: Xavior G. Kennedy Character Portrait: Rosalie Essex
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Date: Thursday, April 11th 1912. xxx Time: 10:30 am. xxx Location: the coast of Celtic Sea
Headed to: Queenstown, Ireland xxx Arrival time: 3:30 pm. xxx Weather: partly cloudy with an abundance of stratocumulus clouds. moderate breeze at 50°C N/NW

Titanic's departure from Southhampton yesterday was quite the success! Afterwards, the massive vessel sailed to Cherbourg, France to board more passengers. Nonetheless, everything seemed to be running smoothly, not a mishap identified. Its passengers are enjoying the long voyage as well. Some even managed to make friends with those within their social heiarchy, but who knows? Maybe love will parish within this grand vessel, or rivals will be made. Sometimes fate just has to be waited upon before it is allowed to make its next move.

As first class passengers began to make their way towards the Parisian Café for an early morning coffee, most second and third class passengers aimed to put on their best fitting garments to join them, passing the bouncers who are scouting for any possible intruders. Nevertheless, people are making the most of it until their final destination to Pier 60 in New York on April 17, 1912.