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Jeannette de Thou

"Have you ever heard the stories?"

0 · 313 views · located in Renaissance England

a character in “Our Rebirth”, originally authored by Possibility, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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"Life's just not as fun without a little mystery,"



Full Name: Jeannette de Thou
   
Nicknames and Aliases: Jean {Not many call her that, as the English often pronounce it wrong and she isn't fond of that}, Nettle {Like Tea Nettles, most common nickname of hers in England}, Lady Jeannette
   
Gender: Female
   
Age:
    Adults: 24 and up
    Children: 17
   
Ethnicity/Race: French
   
Sexual Orientation:
    Bisexual
   
Race: Mermaid



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Hair Color: Blonde
   
Eye Color: Blue
   
Height: 5'7
   
Weight: 120

Tattoos:
N/A
   
Piercings:
N/A
   
Scars:
She has an awful scar around her ankles, a burn mark that never quite faded. She got her tail caught in a fisherman's rope and it gave her bad rope burn.
   
Oddities:
Water Manipulation- she hasn't been in the queen's court very long either, only about a year- the same amount of time she has been in England.
Personality:
{Mischievous, Imaginative, Adaptive, Callous, Self-victimizing}
Jeannette's nickname is Nettle because she is often described like one- she can be sweet and mellow, but only when people give things to her or try to be around her often enough that they become desensitized to her otherwise black qualities. She's quite mischievous, often hanging around in the Queen's lakes or ponds with a mask on to scare unwilling people. She comes up with wild schemes to prank people or otherwise scare them, though she would never harm a person intentionally. When push comes to shove, however, she an be quite funny and adaptable, going along with whatever the other person wants and making them feel at home and happy. However, she's callous at times and cold- she doesn't really 'get' how to be nice to people who aren't nice to her. She also victimizes herself to get out of trouble often, as she is quite good at playing the victim even if the situation was obviously her fault.
   
Hobbies:
-Painting
-Swimming
-Scaring People
-Laughing
      
Habits:
-She often goes around barefoot because she doesn't like the feeling of restricted feet/fins
-Bites her nails when nervous
-Obsessively combs her hair when she doesn't feel safe or at home.
     
Likes/Loves:
  • Boat rides
  • The Ocean (water in general)
  • Swimming
  • History (inherited from her father)
  • France

Dislikes/Hates:
  • Coffee
  • Shoes/Restricting clothing
  • Being deep inland
  • Stuffy people
  • Abusive people




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History:
Nettle was born to Jacques Auguste de Thou , who is the only true reason she was aloud in the court in the first place. As the daughter of not only a noted historian but also a president of France's Parliament, she was a French Nobel from birth. Her spoon wasn't just silver, it was gold plated. Still, she didn't grow up spoiled- she grew up happy. Her mother was quite a bit forward-thinking, and her father accepted her as a smart young lady with a bright future, even if she had to hide behind a male. So, he taught her- history, maths, laws of every notable nation. Though son père knew a lot, he did not know everything, especially about his wife's linage.

Her mother raised her differently than her father, in secret- about who she was and what she was to become. A mermaid. Jean's mother taught her all about how to control it, how to hide it, how to survive in high society with it. But Jean didn't want to survive with it, she wanted to live with it. So, she began to develop it, every summer- her family would take trips to the sea and she would disappear, into the ocean, for days sometimes. Her mother covered her, telling her husband she was with a distant relative.

Jeannette grew to be a local mystery- she wore a blue Carnival mask on her face when she went to the coast as a mermaid, embedded with white sea foam pearls. She was une femme de la mer, a woman of the sea. She was talked about in whispered tones, and she adored it. Scaring people, getting a laugh out of it, it was her life for once every summer.

And then she turned 16, and her father insisted she needed to learn the ways of the world and spread the family name. So, with her second language as English (her father taught her law in English as well as French and made her practice every day, so even though her accent is strong she is quite good at it), the natural choice was to send her to England. The planning was long and the trip was longer, but she enjoyed the warm sunny ship (first class, of course), as well as the knowledge she would be well accepted once there- the queen sent a message saying she would be treated like Royalty in the queen's court because of her status in France. And she was - well received, well fed, well clothed. She receives a monthly gift from her family in the form of a nice sum of Francs, which she quickly transfers to pay for her endeavors (she lives within the palace walls for free- her father either pays for her stately lodgings or it is a gift because of her status- she neither knows nor cares).

Jean has lived within England for a year and hopes to eventually remain there forever, as it has much more access to the ocean and lakes than Paris did. She knows she will have to marry to do that, but she doesn't want to worry with that yet- her reputation as a Mermaid of the Sea in England is not yet solidified and she has to fix that- Her mask in place, of course.



Face Claim: Gemma Ward

So begins...

Jeannette de Thou's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cecily Evercott Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Alice may Character Portrait: Frances Melbourne Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen Character Portrait: Nyna Selova Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Ygritte Armistead Character Portrait: Hugh Wyndham
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#, as written by Felilla
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It is year 1572 where we begin our story. The Queen's Court had recently moved to Windsor for the summer, seeing as it was one of the Queen's favorite places. For the time, everyone seemed to still be settling into the palace, but most people in the Court were used to traveling. However, this is not a story about the simple people of the Court. No, this story is about the members of it that are slightly less than human.

The summer heat was getting to everyone in the Court. It was almost like the sun was trying to kiss the earth, something that should never happen. In a particular room, one single girl by the name of Cecily Euphemia Evercott reclined in a chair as her skittish maidservant hurried around, cleaning the small quarters. To be honest, Cecily did not mind having a small bedchamber. It was the price she paid for having a room to herself. She was growing quite weary of the new maidservant though, a "present" from Her Majesty, brought from France. The young woman did not speak one word of English, but that was not a problem for Cecily, who was well known for her linguistic abilities. The only thing that truly bothered Cecily was the maid's much too cautious behavior. It made the Lady of the Court wonder what could be wrong with the poor girl. She was barely older than Cecily herself. When she looked up from her book, the maid was staring at her.

Startled, the girl looked down and started sweeping furiously. "Etes-vous tout à fait bien, ma fille?*" Cecily questioned, standing up.

The maid dropped her broom, her eyes wide as she faced Cecily. "Je suis désolé, Madame. Je ne voulais pas vous inquiéter!" she exclaimed quickly, picking up her broom. She looked at Cecily again, "Vous parlez français."

Cecily let out a small laugh, "Oui."

It was like the maid had suddenly changed. She became very excited as she brought the broom close to her. "Voulez-vous me enseigner l'anglais?"

"Oui, nous allons commencer simple. Quel est votre nom?" Cecily questioned the young girl.

"Alexis," she replied in a thick French accent.

Cecily shook her head, "Non. My name is..."

Alexis bit her lip as Cecily repeated herself two more times. "M-my name i-is... Alexis?"

The Lady nodded her head, clapping her hands. Alexis grinned at Cecily, bobbing a curtsey. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Instead of having the English impaired Alexis answer it, Cecily moved past her. She unbolted the door, easing it open. The person she saw came as a bit of a shock to the nineteen year old girl. "What a pleasant surprise."



*Translations:
Etes-vous tout à fait bien, ma fille?- Are you quite alright, girl?
Je suis désolé, Madame. Je ne voulais pas vous inquiéter!- I am so sorry, Lady. I did not mean to worry you!
Vous parlez français- You speak French.
Oui- Yes.
Voulez-vous me enseigner l'anglais?- Will you teach me English?
Oui, nous allons commencer simple. Quel est votre nom?- Yes, let's start out simple. What's your name?
Non.- No

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou
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Jean shook her head as her maidservant helped her dress, pulling to tightly on the corset wrapped around her middle.

"Non, madam, please do not pull so hard!" Jeannette clutched at her belly, where she could feel the thick ribbing of the corset pinching at her delicate skin. The maidservant loosened it slightly, but it was still enough to make her skin feel too tight and her breathing to be thin and weak. Jean didn't bother with telling her this, because she didn't really want to push her buttons. Henriette was a nice lady and a better servant, and she did what she was told despite always making sure Jeannette stayed 'fashionable' no matter how much the French woman hated it.

"I can do the rest myself," Jeannette's accent was thicker when she couldn't breathe, and currently she was having so much trouble she was almost unintelligible. The maidservant left her chambers with a swift nod and Jeannette reached back to remove the corset as soon as she was missing. She hid it under her bed in case the woman came to clean and noticed that the corset her lady was supposed to be wearing wasn't on and pitched a fit. Jeannette pulled her dress on over her head and fixed it, checking herself in the mirror. Her hair was piled high atop her head and a few curls fell passed her neck and onto her chest. The dress itself was light blue with rose trimmings around the waist, all of which washed her already pale face out to colors normally found in ghostly apparitions. It was all very aristocratic, and she resented it immediately.

A blue mask sat atop the dresser drawer beside the mirror, and she lifted it up to her face. The white-silver pearls under the eyes looked almost like tears, but the way they circled down her face made them appear more like sea-spray if you looked close enough. The lips of the mask were painted the same color as the rest of the face, adding to the doll-like demeanor of the entire ensemble. It was molded to Jeannette's face almost perfectly, meaning it hardly needed support to stay on, though a thin line of pearls were pulled taught under the back of Jean's hair to keep it on more securely.

Despite the fact that Jeannette couldn't see her face with the mask, she felt more like herself with it on. It reminded her of home, and made her feel safe and secure. She smirked under the cool china of the mask as she raised her hands to take it off.

For later, she thought as she hid it in the folds of her dress, tying it to the strap of her petticoats to keep it up.

As she left the room she checked around once more. The room was smaller than the one in her french home, but it was still much more regal than what others had, and she was grateful for it. The palace at Windsor was different than the others they stayed at, but there was a lake that happened to be only a short horse ride away, so she liked it all the same. She walked stiffly down the stairs and out onto the grounds, where the stable would only be a short walk away. Once there, she could find her horse- a birthday present from her father. It was a kind animal that didn't buck her and didn't mind sitting by himself for hours at a time while she swam. The stable smelled of horse and fodder, which for whatever reason Jean didn't mind. She made her way to the stable where Hephaestus, her horse, was stamping his hooves.

"Calm, Hephae. Would you like a drink?" Jean didn't bother to get help with her horse, as she liked to be on good terms with things that could kill her. She patted his side and looked at the water basin set up for the horse. It wasn't completely filled, but it wasn't lacking either. Jean lifted her hands and a small droplet of the liquid lifted above the water and went to the horses mouth, which opened to swallow the droplet. The horse drank from the basin after that, and Jean let him. She could take her time bridling him, and Jean quite liked the quiet the stable offered her. The subtle movement of the animals inside didn't make it completely devoid of noise, but it wasn't exactly the loudest place. It was like the ocean, where the movement of the waves caused shifting in her ears. Serene was the word she liked to use. Away from all the fussy people and things that made up most of her day. Jean led the horse outside of the room to begin to groom and saddle him, removing her shoes and hiding them inside the now-empty stall. She hated the feeling of shoes, and she always would. Jean brushed his coat slowly, making sure the animal was free of any dirt.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen
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By all means, Samuel Jensen, one of the two stablehands with fiery red hair, should have been at the stable by dawn, preparing the horses for any noble who might have a sudden desire to ride out across the palacegrounds, or out to the woods. However, Samuel instead opted to sleep in, only waking when one of the other servants, a boy around his age who worked as a footservant, gave him a hard shove off of his bed [or rather, cot of sorts], sending Samuel right onto the hard ground. It was a less than pleasant way to be woken up, but the servant boy, John, merely shrugged and commented that it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't slept him. Despite the pain in his shoulder from the fall, Samuel could not prevent the grin that crept up onto his face. John may have been his friend, but the boy now had the feeling that there would be some sort of consequences for waking up Samuel by pushing him over. After all, the stablehand was known for getting his revenge through pranks and tricks. Before John could make a case in his defense, one of the older servants yelled at them to get to where they should be and start working.

A few moments later, Samuel could be found sneaking into the stable, finding that only one noble was there at the moment- the French lass who had been sent to make connections or something like that. He only assumes the latter bit, as everyone here is doing their damnedest to make as many allies as they can. It's in the nature of the court: alliances and trickery and the like. It is probably a source of his disdain towards most members of the court, young and old. They seem to always be looking to maximize their own benefits. Nothing in life is done simply for the sake of doing it, and when that is the case, he simply interprets it as pampered and spoiled living. There is no way to persuade Samuel away from this bias, it often seems. Like an old man, he is set in his opinions.

He gave the noblewoman, or rather noble girl, little more attention before going about his own business. She was brushing and taking care of her horse, requiring none of his assistance. Thus, Samuel is quite happy to go about feeding and brushing the other horses, ignoring the presence of the blonde lady, as though some invisible force were grooming her horse.

"Jensen, how lovely of you to arrive," the stablemaster, who had noticed him sneak in late after all, orders him. Samuel couldn't really have expected to get away with coming in nearly an hour late without some sort of scolding from the older man. Rather than speaking [as he is typically a boy of few words] Samuel merely shrugs and smiles, his expression a perfect mimicry of the one John had given him after shoving him off of the bed. The stablemaster is rather lenient towards Samuel, perhaps because he dislikes chattiness, and Samuel is usually quite terse. So, after a brief scolding, Samuel is let off without a punishment. Pleased to have evaded serious consequences, the ginger boy goes back to his work, humming some tune or another as he does so.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen
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Jeannette was almost done with the chore of brushing the animal when she heard a bit of commotion around her- the sound of a sharp scolding not unlike what her father had sounded like when he yelled at her for finding herself in places a lady of her position ought to remain out of. Now, it wasn't any of her business what was going on, but Jeannette wasn't exactly one to remain without knowing what was going on. So, she silently watched, under the guise of braiding a bit of the horses' mane, as a thin boy began to go back to what she assumed was his job- she figured he was a stable hand, as he wasn't dressed regally and he didn't appear to have any other reason to be here. The boy had red hair, a shade brighter than anything she had ever seen, though not by much.

Jeannette had met a farmer's family once with her father, who had insisted on talking to people of 'lower standing' because he wanted their opinion on the history of France, though he discovered they couldn't care less about history when their tomorrows were not something they could count on. That family all had flaming red hair and burnt red skin to match, though it was all a bit more... dull, than the stable hands. She almost wondered why that was, but she didn't bother with it long- a smirk was making its way onto her face, the same one that always came onto her face whenever she was about to do something she probably shouldn't.

Jeannette knew she should probably go about her day and head to the lake, where her fun wouldn't be interrupted and she wouldn't be recognized. However, she never was one to do what was safe, so she walked back over to the empty stall that now only housed her shoes and flicked her hand forward, causing a thin swirl of mist to rise from the trough. It slowly congealed until it was a mass of water half a foot or so in diameter. Slowly she raised her hand, and the water again dissipated into mist and rose about the ceiling. Jeannette walked over to her animal again and began to draw the brush over him, though one of her hands remained turned below her, palm towards the ceiling. The mist congealed back into a ball again, this time directly over the stable hand's head.

Jeannette let a few drops fall in a sort of small storm before dropping her focus and letting the whole mass drop towards the stable hand. She didn't watch it fall completely though- rather she simply sniggered under her breath and waited for the shrieking. Jeannette knew what she had just done was awfully dumb, as it didn't make much sense for water to just appear and drop onto someone, but she had discovered that most people didn't believe in fairy-tales and would make up an explanation themselves that hardly ever involved her, leaving her completely clear of any and all blame. It was almost criminal, the fact that Jeannette could pull as many pranks as she wanted to and she almost never got caught- though once or twice she had, and it was something she never wanted to do again. Both times it had been her mother, scolding her for using her gifts 'unnecessarily'. Jean didn't know how what she did with her powers was unnecessary- when Jean was a smaller child her mother would use her power to amuse the young girl in the bath, which Jean thought very unnecessary. What she did with her gifts was up to Jeannette herself, and she liked her choice when it came to using them to cause a tiny bit of mischief.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen Character Portrait: Rebecca Adams Character Portrait: Daniel Blythe
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At some point, appreciating the placement of the stone bench had simply caused Rebecca's mind to wander far off from it's original track, something not unusual for the young woman. Thus, she stands before the bench, clutching her book, simply staring at it with a sort of distant look. Given this expression and position, it perhaps isn't too unusual that what breaks her out of her faraway thoughts is a voice questioning the fact that she is doing nothing but gazing at a bench. She briefly considers his words, a faint smile tracing its way across her face, because she has certainly been caught doing something very pointless indeed. This wouldn't be the first time, of course. When not engaged in conversation or a book, the lady of the court is often looking at something but not seeing it, entranced in the workings of her own mind. Whether she be thinking of something as trivial as needing to order new candles, or considering something such as the last book she read and the lessons it held, the world around her temporarily ceases to exist altogether. Ever since childhood, she has had a special talent for losing track of the world around her, if only briefly. Well, her parents often described it as less of a talent and more of a poor habit- it did give her the appearance of foolishness at times. Such as this one, in which she has been found staring at a bench for no reason whatsoever.

"Everyone has their hobbies, of course. If you can't appreciate a fine bench, what hope is there?" she responds, still with a faint smile that suggests half of her mind is still on break at the moment, though the remaining half is here to cover for it in its absence. Having said this, Rebecca finally turns around to see who it is that has stumbled across her in her absent-minded state. The man is familiar, of course- the curly-haired son of a Duke, known for his tendency to charm at parties. Rebecca has never spoken to Lord Blythe in person, perhaps because she only attends smaller parties that have a greater focus on meal and discussion, whereas he might be more inclined towards ones where ladies dress themselves up more.

Courtesy in mind, Rebecca dips into a shallow curtsy. He is the son of a Duke, a Marquess, while she is merely the daughter of a Viscount. Her family's power lies in its intelligence and political talents, rather than blood that runs with royalty in the genes. "I fear for society, the day such a bench goes unnoticed, my lord," she adds, still with that half smile and a voice that is a mix of cool and warm- distant but friendly, perhaps. She has not seen him around this garden in previous court visits to the Windsor Palace- she would know, visiting it as frequently as she does her own bedchambers.



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Samuel had been quite content to continue about his business, humming cheerfully as he usually does, grooming and feeding various horses. The stablemaster had gone off to deal with some matter or another, and any other stablehand who might have been in the area was keeping very quiet indeed. Perhaps this is fortunate for the French lady, who is about to play a trick of sorts on Samuel, who is rather unsuspecting. Why should his guard be up against possible attacks, after all? The only other person he knows to be about his some random lady of the court, and she isn't near enough to cause any problems. He is glad for this, not being overly fond of dealing with the noble folk. Small drops of water falling upon his head come as a surprise, then, and he looks up to see if perhaps there is water clinging to the wooden roof above him. It may have rained a bit last night, and he simply hadn't noticed. Unfortunately, this look leaves him completely vulnerable to the sudden splash of water that falls straight into his face, thoroughly rinsing through his hair and over his face, soaking even his shoulders and shirt.

However, as he stands silently --the humming having now ceased-- a small image tugs at his mind. Just before the water dropped onto him, it had seemed to float over head, as though held their by an invisible container. He looks over and catches sight of the French lady laughing, perhaps at the sight of him thoroughly soaked. Had it been a prank openly carried out by a fellow servant, he might have grinned and admitted it was a good joke. However, having been drenched by a mysterious source of water, with only a snickering little lady to see, does not suit him very well indeed. It is rather hypocritical of him, perhaps, but the young man is a long way away from enjoying being laughed at by some rich lass. As far as he is concerned, it's quite alright for him to pull pranks on them, because it levels the playing field in some way. He is cheerful, but frightfully clouded with double standards.

And, thus, rather than giving her the satisfaction of becoming irritated or showing extreme reaction, he just returns back to his work, humming once more despite the fact that soaked clothing now clings to his skin. Perhaps he'll get revenge later on, but he's hardly going to do it now- that would require using his powers in a way that would certainly cause her to ask questions, and he isn't going to play the part of the fool. He may love jokes, but he doesn't fancy the idea of getting caught as being something more than human, anymore than his parents would like for their son to reveal their secret. He does give her a look of sorts, though, one equal parts curious and knowing.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Samuel Jensen
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Jeannette doesn't stop giggling when he smirks towards her, rather she quiets herself so that it isn't so loud and boisterous. She'd seen the smirk on herself before- in the mirror as a maidservant brushed her hair and asked her why salt clung to the blonde tresses and why her skin was tanner than what was considered "pretty" during some summer months. Jeannette knew the smirk meant trouble, but she didn't say something about it- if she didn't comment, perhaps he would let it go. She swung herself onto her horse, forgoing a saddle. The animal didn't like it, and she planned on leaving him for a while to graze about the fields while she swam about. She straightened her posture, as she had always been told to do to appear at her most regal when on a horse, and kicked, making the horse walk forward.

The movement was slow, but she didn't mind, and when she was clear of the stable and far enough away that any watchful eyes would have turned from her, she pushed the horse into a trot and then a gallop, riding as fast as she could until the horse slowed back into a walk of his own accord. It didn't matter- they were close enough to the water anyway. She climbed off the back of the animal and left him near the edge, trusting him not to go far. She doubted he would- her mother always left the horses out on their own while she swam and always personally trained them not to go far, and as this horse was a gift Jeannette knew he had gotten the same treatment.

Jeannette had lead herself to a corner of the palace where prying eyes would have trouble reaching her- that was rather important, considering what she was about to do. She drew her dress up over her head and left it on a nearby tree, leaving it to wave about on its own. The mask on her side was quickly undone as her deft fingers untangled it and lifted it up to her face, tying it. She undid the carefully done hairstyle sadly- it was such a pretty style but it would never last in the water.

Jeannette, unlike many women, didn't feel uncomfortable naked. Of course, propriety told her that she shouldn't be nude in front of others, but she didn't care about it on her own. Still, she undressed on the side of the lake, carefully positioned so that her body was mostly towards a thick line of trees. She left her chemise on- it covered her upper body but wouldn't hinder her transformation any. She loved the feeling of being in the water, but the parts that came before- undressing, carefully watching to make sure no one saw her, all that- it was annoying to say the least.

Jeannette slipped into the water quickly, lifting her body into the cool pool. The change was something Jeannette had grown used to, and it was perhaps one of the most natural feelings to the mermaid. Her pale legs pulled together and changed, scales growing out of skin and the shape of her bones and tendons changing to accommodate their new shape. Jeannette wouldn't describe the feeling as painful, but it was strong and pinching. It didn't take long and soon enough a long, bluish-green tail that started from her waist and ended in two transparent fins could be seen just below the surface.

Jeannette swam in a circle a few times, diving under the waves and popping back up. Jeannette could see fairly well under the water, and she could hold her breath for some time, but she still had to pop back up every now and again. It was nice, the feeling of the water falling down her arms and sliding passed her skin. She swam around , trying to distinguish which way she wanted to go. Towards the palace, where it would be more risky but easier to get back? Or outward, towards where the water bent into town and people would be playing at the water's edge?

Jeannette decided to simply take some time to herself and removed the mask, setting next to her other clothing. She found a bank near a line of trees and pulled herself up onto it, her tail half-way submerged in the waves. The day was quite nice to say the least, and Jeannette enjoyed watching the light glint of the scales at her waist, turning the blue-green aquamarine.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Dalibor Marian Vel'moc
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The pungent air in the square was blisteringly hot, even the fountain refused to run. With every breeze came wafting the smell of decay from the butcher shop up the road. Dalibor Vel’moc sat on the edge of the barren fountain tracing his finger through the cracks of the tiles while scraping his feet along the cobblestone. He had finally ran out of means to fight the boredom of his room (you can only sleep for so long) and thought that perhaps he’d stroll through the streets of Windsor, exploring his new surroundings. Growing up on a private estate in the country, which he rarely left, he felt unaccustomed to the commotion of the crowded town.

He ran his hand through his blond hair, giving it a flick to try and air his clammy roots. He was nothing if not uncomfortable. He sat on the fountains’ ledge with his wings folded tightly around his torso wrapped with a yards worth of cloth, effectively fastening them in place, underneath an ugly cotton tunic. He looked down at himself irritated; he would have to change before meeting any of the other Lords or Ladies of the court later that day, as he had sweat through his layers.

Just as he debated whether or not to return to the palace two peasant children ran by, excitedly discussing their adventures at the local lake. “Well there’s an idea.” Thought Dalibor. It had been such a long time since he’d last been swimming, it would be fantastic to cool off for a while. Giving it some thought he realized that perhaps swimming with his wings exposed may not be the best idea, but even as he was contemplating the difficulties of his venture he had already begun to head toward the lake.

As he began to approach the waterfront he came to the conclusion it was far to populated to find a secluded corner for himself. Every inch of the water seemed to be congested with people up until the lake began to narrow into a small river that bent into a forest. Without anything better to do Dalibor followed the river’s shore hoping to find a more secluded region.

Dalibor walked for what seemed like hours under the hot summer sun before he came upon an oasis. Hidden in a cove of trees lied a small meadow surrounding a stunning blue pool, still under the clouds. After briefly scouting the surrounding area for any humans he quickly stripped to his briefs before advancing into the shallow water. With pleasure he removed the fabric constricting his wings and stretched them for the first time in hours. As he moved forward into the depths and began to swim about he saw that it was not as isolated had he had first assumed; in the center of the blue lake he saw something swim around, inhumanly fast. With a few quick beats of his wings he took to the air hoping the mysterious being had not yet noticed him.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Dalibor Marian Vel'moc
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Jeannette was in somewhat of a daze, lounging as she was. She sometimes imagined she was back home- on the ocean, swimming around and watching the maidens around the shore scream and throw items at her so she would swim away. She sat with her arms against the shore, her eyes closed as she lazily moved her tail in the waves. That is, of course, until she heard a sound that reminded her of the winds that sometimes came in the fall, disrupting the daily walks that she and her mother would have. She didn't look at first, rather deciding to simply dive rather than allow herself to be out in the open. She floated just under the surface, the halo of her hair floating to the top. After a second, she peaked over the top of the water to see a figure flying. It was much larger than a bird, though it did have wings. She squinted her eyes, as she followed it's trail, watching it descend into the forest.

Jeannette's most fatal flaw was the fact that she could not ever avoid trouble. She knew this, she knew it would probably be a bad idea to go after it, but it didn't stop her. She pulled herself out of the water, resting on the edge of the waves as she willed her legs back, and after what seemed to be a minute but probably only ended up being a few seconds or so of mind-numbing concentration her legs were back, though the pain of such a fast transformation was not. It was so easy to let her transformations happen naturally, but if she did she might not find the figure and to her, at least, it was worth a bit of pain. She pulled herself up and walked over to the tree where her clothing hung and hastily dressed herself, letting her still wet hair hang at her sides. She smiled to herself, the thought of an adventure making her giddy. She pulled herself onto the horse and pulled the animal into the thicket of trees.

It would be nice to say that Jean was good under pressure. And normally, she was. Normally, she could easily handle anything- she was very adaptive and it was one of her best qualities. However, the sight before her was something she was not and, until marriage, didn't want to be prepared for. The figure she had seen, apparently, had been a man. That much was obvious to her. A man with wings, big leathery wings. And, he was bleeding.

She screamed. She couldn't help it, she closed her eyes and screamed. It wasn't loud, but she was frightened and it was her natural response. However, after her initial breakdown she realized she had to help him. "How, exactly, did you get yourself into this mess?" she said. She didn't know the 'you' in question was herself or the man, but either way it worked. She should have just stayed in the lake or gone back to the palace and been none the wiser. She sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes, which she had kept closed until this moment. She kept her eyes on the wounded part of the man- his leg, dismounted, walked closer, and leaned down. She could hear him laughing, but she put that up to delirium and ignored it. His ankle was caught in a trap, it seemed.

Jeannette had very minimal know how when it came to hunting. Traps were not something she encountered often. She sighed to herself and looked forward, holding the bridge of her nose with one hand. She saw a pile of clothing there, almost like the man had thrown it. She walked over to the pile and grabbed one of the articles, throwing it over the parts of the man that she would rather not look at. Then she walked back over to his leg and looked at it more closely. She didn't know what to do really, but her mother had told her to always clean a wound before anything else. She thought about it for a moment, sighed to herself, and looked up at the man's face. He was almost unconscious and probably wouldn't remember if she used her power, right? She flipped her palm outward and, thanks to the somewhat humid day, a ball of water formed over her hand. She let it fall over the captured leg and wash away the blood there, making it easier to see the damage. She shuddered and placed a hand over her mouth. It looked painful. Blood was falling from the puncture wounds, and she couldn't even see to cover those because the trap was in the way.

"I... I'm sorry, I-" she stammered, standing. If he didn't move, it was still a long shot to say that she could find someone else before he died. The bleeding wasn't as profuse as it had been, but it was still forming worse than she had ever seen.

"Help!" she screamed as loud as she could- perhaps someone was in the woods? She would have to bet on it. She clasped the spring that was off to the side of the trap, but even though it budged she was not nearly strong enough to push it all the way down so she could pull the trap open, and she couldn't step on it because the man had pulled the trap up from the ground when he fell backward. She sat beside him and ripped up one of the articles of clothing, wrapping it around just above the trap. She pulled tightly and tied it. It didn't completely stop the flow of blood, as she wasn't strong enough to do that, but she did succeed in slowing the flow slightly. She'd rather have the man suffer through an amputation than be dead, and it was the best she could do.

"Help!" she tried again, multiple times, trying to keep her breathing steady.

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Character Portrait: Jeannette de Thou Character Portrait: Nyna Selova Character Portrait: Dalibor Marian Vel'moc
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Nyna was terribly excited to visit her favorite place in the small world she lived in. The girl had never traveled far outside the kingdom. Sometimes she would stray far into the forest, but she always found her way back. She had no desire to leave her home. Though she was a quiet soul, she enjoyed watching the emotions of others. As she walked deeper into the forest she fiddled with the wooden ring on her index finger, appreciating the small token of her former self. When walking her ears picked up a shrieking sound coming from the east. It was a female for sure, and after a few moments of listening the word "help" was picked up. The dryad was never one to not help others, and briskly she walked the forest floor barefoot until she found the clearing the loud noise was coming from. On her way there she believed to hear the sound of horses - but knew she was mistaken.

She placed her hands over her mouth when she saw the practically naked leather beast man and blonde woman. What is he? she wondered and grew closer. She was grateful that his parts were at least cover, if they weren't it would have made it rather awkward for her. Looking down she saw water and blood roll down his leg, then saw an animal trap that contained him.
"Oh, oh my" she mumbled, mostly to herself before getting closer. Normally Nyna would be very cautious about approaching people as she normally was, but when someone was hurt, she knew she had to help. The wicker basket she carried was delicately placed down onto the ground, and she came forward to closer inspect the wound. She was no healer, but she did have a wide knowledge of natural remedies and medicines.

"We will not be able to do anything as long as his ankle stays in that trap, if you may, I believe we can both pry it open if we do it at the same time" Nyna said softy, wondering is a maidservant like herself was over pushing her limits. Some were to vain to even accept help from someone like her. She placed her small hands onto the coldness of the trap in hopes the blonde woman would help her. The girl looked familiar. There was no doubt by her clothing that she was a noble. Nyna waited for comments about her ranking, or being disgusted about her presence. There were some very rude and selfish nobles Nyna had learned.
"If we can manage to get his ankle out I may be able to help with stopping the bleeding" Nyna's eyes darted around the forest as she spoke those words. Of course she could summon the plants she would need - but she could not do it in their sight. Though there was a small part of her that felt strangely good in the presence of the leather winged man. Maybe it was because she now knew that for sure she wasn't the only strange one in the world. Her life she's always been different, it was reassuring to know she wasn't the only one.

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Jeannette breathed a sigh of relief when the other woman showed up. She wasn't noble, that much was obvious, but Jeannette was past caring about birth order. Her father was a president of the parliament, and had taught her that ruling wasn't just about status. People didn't like working when they weren't treated well, and when people didn't work fields, nobles didn't eat. And when nobles didn't do their jobs, the common people weren't happy. It was better, then, for everyone to treat each other with respect so things got done.

"We will not be able to do anything as long as his ankle stays in that trap, if you may, I believe we can both pry it open if we do it at the same time" The woman said, and Jeannette nodded as she crouched, leaning backwards on her feet.

She wasn't sure where she should be looking, really- she couldn't look at the man's face because he was close to unconscious, his ankle was bleeding heavily and she could only handle that for so long, and she didn't want to look at the wings. She knew he couldn't be human, but that still didn't tell her who he was or what he was. His face was somewhat familiar, and she wondered if he lived in the palace... but that begged the question- how did he hide his wings if he lived in proximity to humans?

"Of course," Jeannette said, moving her hands so that they were side by side with the girl's. Hopefully the two of them together could get it opened. "I am glad someone showed up to help me," she smiled at the girl. "I am not strong enough on my own."

"If we can manage to get his ankle out I may be able to help with stopping the bleeding" The woman said, and Jeannette nodded. She didn't know about healing, so she was glad the woman could help her stop it. Jeannette pulled at the trap, and to her surprise it moved open, leaving room to pull the man's leg out. Jeannette pulled the trap off, setting it down carefully so it didn't snap back onto Jeannette or the woman.

"Mademoiselle? Tell me if you need me to do anything," she said, folding her hands. He was still bleeding but with the girl here Jeannette couldn't do anything about cleaning it, and even then she didn't know how to heal.

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Nyna watched the man's face as he seemed to be somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. The girl didn't know really what to make of what he was. The leather wings were large and graceful. Secretly she had a small urge to touch them, to see if they felt as they looked. The blonde woman nodded at her words. "I am glad someone showed up to help me, I am not strong enough on my own." the woman smiled at Nyna, a gesture that she returned before looking back down at the trap.
"I wouldn't be strong enough on my own neither. These traps are made to be strong for the beast of the forest. Unfortunate that this...man didn't look onto where he was stepping" Nyna replied, gaining hold of the trap and pulling along with the blonde woman. Nyna was glad the woman set the trap away from them. Knowing herself Nyna would have probably ended up snapping her on it upon trying to move it.

Nyna began examining the deep gash made by the trap. There would be no need for amputation, like she initially was beginning to wonder. When the man...or thing...woke up she guessed he would be glad to find both legs. Seeing the tied piece of clothing above the wound Nyna smiled. The girl had done something to help for the moment. It was quick thinking.
"Mademoiselle? Tell me if you need me to do anything," the blonde woman said, folding her hands. Nyna looked to her and smile gently.
"I'm not worthy of that form of title. Call me Nyna ma'm" Nyna said before looking down and thinking on what she would need. By the end of the day the man would have no remnants of his shirt left. Nyna grabbed the material and struggled to rip a large portion that would be used as a rag.

"If you are still willing to help, I do need this drenched in water so I can clean the wound. I don't have the right materials on me to apply a remedy to the wound. We may need to find a way to transport him back to my home where I have my things" Nyna gently put, looking at the woman with her chestnut colored eyes. Blood did not frighten the woman in the slightest. She looked at the amount that seemed to be non ending. The bleeding would need to be stopped soon in order for the man to survive. It looked as it would need to be sewn together, as the skin was too far apart to heal naturally.