xxxL U C I A x D U B O I S
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x glutton x ⢠x gula x ⢠x ËÉĄlÉtn x â˘
Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge
Bad Guy - Billie Eilish
Mercy - Hurts
- Lucia DuBois
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n i c k n a m e s x // x Lulu by her parents, Luci by select few.
a g e x // x25
g e n d e r x // xfemme
s e x u a l i t y x // xpansexual
o r i g i n x // xparis, france, 1994
r o l e x // xguardian
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w e i g h t x // x59 kg
h a i r x // xdark in a parisian bob
e y e s x // xdarker
o d d i t i e s x // xmarkings on her fingers resembling tattoos. Satanic symbolism perfected by her family to enhance their bloodline's ritual spell casting. scars are light, faded from time â but some remain. Memories of wilder times.
a p p e a r a n c e x // xLucia used to watch the girls and how they dress on the streets of Paris. She loved their fashion, the way they walked. From a young age Lucia had been dazzled by glamour. Fine fabrics and eye-catching fabrics, trendy designs and ascots. Her hair was short, often slightly mussed with a beret poised atop. Lucia loved those beretâs, they made her feel like a girl from a French film â holding a cigarette from painted lips, watching the smoke curl up.
When Lucia walked, she held her chin up. There was nothing that could make her walk with her head low. Her mother would always tell her âNever give them the satisfactionâ. So she never did. No one phased her, or at least her façade. She held herself with grace and confidence. Every motion was fluid, feminine and intentional. She was someone you noticed, maybe watched from afar but never approached. Her cool demeanor could be off putting to others, often not the type to go out and try to make new friends. Some would call her unapproachable, thought that could change after a couple drinks.
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I N G E N I U M
xxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x a b i l i t y x ⢠x \ É - Ë b i - l É - t Ä \ x â˘
a b i l i t y x // x meteorokinesis. the ability to manipulate the weather.
N O T A
xxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x f a m i l i a r x ⢠x \ f É - Ë m i l - y É r \ x â˘
f a m i l i a rx // x pascal. an arctic fox white as snow, it makes the blood from his prey that much brighter after a fresh kill. a wild thing, unbroken. he spends his days hunting, but always close by. loyal to his master, she is his everything. he comes when called, curling into her arms like a lost kitten. a devoted rascal.
F O R T I T U D O
xxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x s t r e n g t h x ⢠x \ Ë s t r e Ĺ ( k ) t h \ x â˘
s t r e n g t h x // x observant. Many a nights have been spent on a park bench with a box of wine and an old book. Eventually sheâd become too drunk to read another line and would just sit on the park bench and watch the people go by. It was amazing how people held themselves when they thought no one was looking. Eventually they all started to look the same, lost and alone. People reveal so much in their motions, and no one pays attention. But Lucia does.
s t r e n g t h x // x charming. Lucia has her way. Sometimes itâs in the touch of an arm, or the well-timed compliment. She is great at playing âthe partâ, whatever part it is that someone wants her to play. If they want her to lie, she does that. If they want her to stroke their ego, she does that. Lucia isnât one to let pride get in the way of what she wants.
s t r e n g t h x // x resilient. There was very little that shook Lucia. When you saw true tragedy, the rest is just childâs play. Even if she had everything working against her, Lucia holds her head high. There is nothing short of Satan himself that could stop her from getting what she wanted.
I N F I R M I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x w e a k n e s s x ⢠x \ Ë w Ä k - n É s \ x â˘
w e a k n e s s x // x red wine. Bordeaux is her favorite, though sheâs been seen drinking boxed red blend as well. Truth was, any drink would do. Wine just made her feel like a little less of a drunk. She couldnât remember the last time she went a day without at least a glass.
w e a k n e s s x // x authoritative figures. What can she say? Lucia can appreciate someone who takes charge, uniform is a plus. Luciaâs confidence is often mistaken for bossiness, but she tends to fill the role of reluctant leader when no one else stands up. Not that sheâs much of an eager follower â but she doesnât mind being submissive under the right circumstances.
w e a k n e s s x // x affection. Lucia was a fiend for affection. Her relationships often ended in fire, mostly with her partner exhausted with her incessant neediness. She wants to be held, to be touchedâŚA L W A Y S. She hangs off her friends, always leaning against their shoulder or reaching for their hand. She craved affection like an addict, sometimes looking for it in worst kind of places â or people.
M E T U M
xxxxxxxxxxxx⢠x f e a r x ⢠x \ Ë f i r \ x â˘
f e a r x // x her own impulses. Sometimes Lucia feels like she has no real control over herself. She has a desire, she fulfills it. Thereâs no such thing as delaying gratification. Sometimes she makes herself sick, unable to stop herself from that last drink or that last bite or that last screw. When she wants something, she goes for it, if she wants to do something, she does it. This leads her into nothing but trouble and self-destruction.
f e a r x // x humans. her family fled Paris from witch hunters, her brother dying fighting them off as she and her parents fled. There is nothing more terrifying than realizing no magic can save you. She once considered humans to be harmless, but she realized any one of them could be manipulated by fear becoming creature of hate. Lucia doesnât have any malice for humans, but sheâs very distrustful of them.
f e a r x // x fate. Sheâs destined for something, or so sheâs been told all her life. Her life was never hers, Lucifer made that very clear. Itâs all been leading to this moment, the unknown.
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P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxx⢠x insatiable x ⢠x impulsive x ⢠x lush x ⢠x hedonistic x ⢠xneedy
Sheâs more of the friend you call after youâve had a long week. The one you want around, so she encourages your bad decision making skills. Itâs always an adventure, one door always leading to another. She was the friend you let crash in your guest bedroom. The last one to leave a party, often having to be carried out.
Lucia once had been somewhat functional, back before they fled Paris. Before she started chasing oblivion. She grew up believing she was being groomed for something special, but if that were true â if the Dark Lord knew her fate then that meant he just let it happen. He was inescapable, that much she was sure was. He made it known that everything she had, down to her very soul, was his.
So, Lucia told herself sheâd take the path the Dark Lord had paved for her, but sheâd at least enjoy it in the meantime. Self-control was never something she excelled at. If she desired something, she indulged. Lucia was like an addict; it didnât matter if it was alcohol or drugs or sex â she wanted to consume and consume until she was sick. Throw it away and pursue her next poison.
She wasnât the sort to make friends easily. It took a certain type to appreciate her. Lucia tended to bring out the worst side of people, led them into circumstances theyâd never imagine themselves in. Most people found it uncomfortable, but some grew to find the beauty in it. You learned parts of yourself when you allow yourself to pursue your darkest desires.
So many warlocks and witches spent their times wringing their hands worrying about the ethics of it all. Lucia reveled in the barbarity, craved the carnage. She had learned to embrace the Dark Lord. He was inevitable, omnipotent, all consuming. The only way out was through. She didnât have time for questions of morality, Lucia didnât take part in such discussions. Though she did love provoking them.
Lucia had spent years of putting up a façade. Hidden her pain so deep no one ever saw it. Thatâs how she became so great at seeing past others mask. She could see the darkness below the surface. Once she did, all she could think about was bringing it to the light. To make others as indulgent as she. When you stopped fretting about the consequences, there was no impossibility.
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1994
Born to Marie and Pierre DuBois during an equinox, Lucia arrived around 3am to the sound of thunder cracking across the sky above them. They named her Lucia, an homage to their Dark Lord Lucifer and the light he flashed across the sky at the moment of her birth. Marie would say that Lucifer appeared to her during her pregnancy, telling her that her baby would not be baptized until after her 25th birthday. That he had plans for her.
The DuBoisâ had always been an affluent family. They were known for their traditional satanic markings, tattooed on their skin to enhance their abilities. With the whispers from Lucifer that he had plans for their youngest child, their status was elevated. Her brother, who as the first born and first born son should have had higher status than she, was often an afterthought to their parents. Not that he minded, as he grew older he could get away with more. All eyes on Lucia meant none on him.
Lucia idolized her brother; he had a way about him that made it impossible to hate him. Despite every element working against them, they never experienced any sort of sibling rivalry. It felt like it was them against the world. Their parents all but neglected her brother and suffocated her. Somehow, together they got through it.
Which is why his death hit her so hard. Witch hunters had raided their church during the blood moon. They killed every man, woman, childâŚbaby that crossed their path. Have you ever heard the squelch of an arrow through a newbornâs skull? Lucia has.
Her brother stayed behind. Of course he did. Heâd always been the type to try to play hero. A mistake Lucia would never make. She begged him to come with, but he just threw her into their fatherâs arms and told them to get out. Not a day went by Lucia didnât think about his face, about his last words to her. About that babyâs skullâŚ
Thatâs when Lucia first began to drink. They had fled so quickly, when they arrived in New England, they had nothing more than the clothes on their back. Lucia remembered staying in a atrocious motel and stealing a box of some cheap red wine to drink by the empty pool â alone. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her brothers face, heard that arrow strike through that babyâs head. She realized if she drank enough, she could just pass out â dreamless bliss.
Of course, her parents couldnât have that. Once they were welcomed into the New England Coven, her parents wanted to keep her at home for as long as possible. When the Coven said that Lucia was well above age to live at The Academy of Unseen Arts. Her parents said that after the tragedy theyâd experienced they thought Lucia should have more time with them. Really they just wanted to keep a short leash.
Truth was, Lucia liked trouble. She liked finding it, causing it. Hell, she even liked getting caught. She liked everything but the consequences, really. People loved telling her what to do, and Lucia liked showing them she didnât have to listen to anyone. She gave them the option, let her go to the Academy or she would run away. They refused, so she left.
Even at a young age, Lucia had been an accomplished witch. She had her markings at age 13, since then it had just been about memorizing the incantations. The rest came as easy as breathing. She could have gone anywhere in the world, but there was only one place she wanted to be. Paris.
She lived off wine, bread, cheese and eventually a lot of cocaine. Nico took her in, though she didnât spend much time at his home. Most her days were spent in parks, drinking herself into oblivion. Nights were for dancing, drinking, drugs. Lucia could have lived like that the rest of her life in contentment, but then the Dark Lord began to visit. First it was just his appearance in her dreams, his curved horns and ominous silhouette. Then she began to sense his presence during the day, never seeing him but recognizing the pungent sulfuric smell that followed him.
âWhat do you want?â She finally asked him. As clear as day his desire manifested in her mind. She was to return to New England and attend The Academy of Unseen Arts. She was to fall in line and do her part because he had plans. It was then she knew she had no choice in the matter, that he wouldnât let her go.
So, she returned. Her parents didnât argue about her attending the Academy. It seemed they had been visited as well. Lucia moved into the Academy and was able to pick up her studies where she had left off. Other people werenât so excited about her return. Some believed she had received unnecessary favor, that she should have faced punishment for fleeing. People despised her for daring to dream, for doing what they couldnât; leave.
Truth was, there was no escaping.
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âHeâs a good kid, but with luck and the Dark Lord will maybe I could change that.â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
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âWhat can I say? Iâve got a thing for those in a position ofâŚpower.â
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âPoor thing thinks she has to protect her brother from me. She has no idea.â
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âMy kind of witch.â
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âSweet little bird, not sure if itâs a blessing or a curse to grow up outside the Church.â
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"I don't think I could survive this wretched place without her.â
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âI donât think she likes me very much.â
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âThe kind of guy you love to hate.â
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âI wish you couldâve seen the look on her face when I vomited on her coach slippers.â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
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