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Alice Dupont

Paranormally permiscuous!

0 · 1,107 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CrashQueen

Description

Formerly 'Alice Delacroix' but I decided I didn't like that last name as much since it's overused.

Alice is a 27-year old woman with white hair and pink eyes due to albinism. She typically covers herself head to toe in a black, mock-collared, longsleeved dress and stockings to keep her skin exposed from too much sun, or light in general. And for very good reason, as if you were to catch a glimpse underneath the opaque fabric, you'd be treated to a most unusual sight. Not unlike a ghost fish, Alice's skin is milky and partially see-through. Her organs pulse underneath in shades of muted pinks and reds, while her skeleton appears almost greyish through the translucent flesh.

The lack of opacity to her skin means that UV rays from sunlight and lamplight alike can penetrate to her organs and do all sorts of damage. She is practically a melanoma waiting to happen, so she has good reason for her conservative dress.

Overall though, she's a fragile-looking thing due to her frosted-glass appearance.

I've prepared a delightful visual aid!

Image

^^^ Like this, but human format.

Personality

Alice flip-flops between being friendly and outgoing and shy and reserved, depending on several factors, such as:

* Amount of alcohol imbibed
* How good her hair looks
* Whether or not she thinks another is attractive
* Pills!
* Her daily horoscope

She likes music, and writing, and whatever else twenty-somethings are into these days. She does feel a little bit like an outcast, and who can blame her? She is pretty freaky looking. She likes people who can look past this though and admire her for what she is on the inside....figuratively. The physical see what's on the inside is already taken care of.

Alice might be a bit of a slut for anything paranormal.

Equipment

She carries a massive black bag that houses a number of items, seemingly without limits. She'll pull out whatever she needs that's practical. She might as well just live her entire life out of this bag, since she never tells people where she sleeps at night.

History

Alice works at Gambits, and that alone is history enough.

So begins...

Alice Dupont's Story

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A short gust of wind indicated Alice's arrival into the bar. She sighed and removed her coat and fur muff, hanging them on the rack in the employee break room before tying her longish white hair back and pulling an apron on. She set a pot of coffee to brewing before pulling up a chair to the bar, removing a magazine and reading it. She would be available to whoever needed their morning/afternoon fix. And she would be delighted to not have to write up any damages during her shift. Bartender on duty.
Pretty little doll of a thing, at that.

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"Certainly, right away." The woman replied, grabbing a frosty mug from the freezer behind her and making her way over to the draft, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "Any preference?" she asked of Longthorn.

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She grinned. "Whatever you'd like." She said, gesturing to the singular tap. "Funny thing, magic. Makes life so much more convenient."

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Alice fulfilled Longthorn's request, setting down the frothy mug before the man before tilting her head at his uniform. "You a reenactor of some sort, then?" While she knew Gambits, and Wing City in general, played host to people of all creeds, she never stopped to think that it would also invite people from all times to it as well. She slipped down to the end of the bar with a rag to mop up what looked like an hours-old spill. Whoever had the shift before her did an awful job on clean-up.

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"I was...in the history books....I think." Middle school had been a long, long time ago for Alice. "I'm sorry if I offended you in any way." She bit her lip, the last thing she wanted to do was piss a customer off. Wish a blush that illuminated her cheeks, she resumed wiping down the bartop.

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Alice Dupont nodded at Datius with a quick, 'of course' and set to making the cup of tea, setting a kettle to boil. It would take a few minutes, at least. She looked a bit 'yeah...really?' at the fancy language, but kept her mouth shut. Don't say anything Alice, don't say anything at all...

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Alice Dupont pushed the old pervert off of the bar with a grunt. "Oy oy oy, get offa here, I just wiped down the damn thing!"

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Oooor the security guy. Whatever. Either way you keep your feets and your bloods off the bar.

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"Don't fancy talk the kid, man." Alice called out to Datius. "Little rat's just got an attitude problem. I should throw her out anyway. What if there's an inspection? We'd get shut down...again..."

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I don't believe in autohits :0

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Alice Dupont grunted as she found herself lifted off the ground. "So you have psychic powers or a poltergeist at your disposal...and I'm supposed to be afraid of this, how?" She glanced at her arm before assuming it was the latter, and giving a good hard jab where she assumed Jiraiya's ribs to be. "Get out of my bar, you cockroach!"

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"Get out of my bar, kid. You ain't even supposed to be in here. And take your ghost-on-a-rope with you before I bust out a proton pack and go Hoover on his ethereal ass." Alice hissed, resting her hands on her hips haughtily. She glanced at Datius and the fallen security guard. "He'll be fine. It's Gambits..."
Her eye caught Cyrus sitting down at the bar before she sauntered over, pulling a piece of hair behind her ear. "What can I get you, hun?"

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"I don't care what goes on during other peoples' shifts, that's out of my control, but I know I'm not about to serve any underage patrons. Regardless." She smirked while popping open the bottle of Carling for Cyrus and setting it and another frosty glass before the man.
A subtle look up and down was a treat nonetheless, though Alice's dress was highly conservative in nature, black cowl-neck with long sleeves and tights to match, the only patches of skin showing being the tops of her feet. Indeed, she was even wearing gloves over her hands. One who did not notice her anomaly would have assumed she merely didn't like to get dirty. That would be far from the truth.
She just didn't want lightbulb-induced cancer.

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And even then, her feet showed the pink tinge of muscle and sinew through diaphanous skin, her bones just beneath, pieces of ivory peeking out between the connections. She was a strange-looking creature indeed, but very human, and very capable of having her feelings hurt. Fortunately she'd learned to set up a barrier between herself and other people a long time ago, it came with the territory of being what could have been a circus freakshow. She regarded Dorsan curiously as he approached the bar.
"Can I get you anything?" Demons, or demon-folk, didn't freak her out. Hell, she used to date one.

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Honey, Alice had dated an incubus before this time, there was nothing demonic that you could pull on her and have her freak out about. She found the fangy grin charming in a bizarre sort of way, and she leaned on the bar with an equally as appealing smile on her red lips. "Of course I am talking to you, I am asking you if you'd like a drink, hmm? Why else would you come to Gambits? It's surely not for the company."
She chuckled.

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"Your teeth, they are nice...and white. You don't get that a whole lot from demonkind." She replied to Dorsan's smile. She seemed quite at home with the fellow. Alice had a bit of an affinity for the unusual and the paranormal, ever since she was young, she figured it had something to do with her see-through nature.
"Sit, sit! I'll fix you an Italian soda, my treat." She offered, gesturing to the barstool nearest to her. Her pinkish eyes sparkled and her smile was genuine. "Ain't alcoholic, but I'll be hanged if I give any of our booze away..."

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"The boss...they don't like to pass out the freebies unless they can write it off as charity for tax deduction." She replied, mixing various syrups together in a tall glass full of ice. "I do like compliments though, so lay one on me, Mister..." she paused, fishing for a name.
And being a darling little thing (though with the attitude of a snapping turtle), she had a lot physically to be complimented about, her snowy hair, enchanting eyes, ample busom, and a not-too-shabby badonkadonk at that. A plethora to choose from.
She grabbed the hose that distributed soda water and shot it into the glass of syrup and ice, giving a courtesy stir before setting it down in front of Dorsan. "Nothing too fancy, just an old-fashioned kiwi-strawberry mix. Woulda done lime, but we're out of lime."

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Alice rubbed her neck anxiously as Dorsan mentioned her skin. It was a subject that she didn't much like to bring up, even if it was in compliments. The complexion (or the lack thereof?) had brought her a lot of grief while she was growing up. "Oh, Alice, call me Alice."

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"You're welcome," Alice replied with a grin, her moment forgotten entirely. She just let things slide, like water off a duck's back. She glanced at the conflict a'brewing. "Hey, as long as nobody FIRES that gun, there's no need to get our panties in a wad, okay?"

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Alice could be a weak little girl if she wanted to, but why? Where was the fun in that? She played the victim enough in bed with the ex, but it didn't dare migrate into her social life, and her job. You had to be tough to work at Gambits, that was just the way the job was. Even though she was heinously mortal, she kept her wits about her. She knew just when to duck, or when to run into the back room. And she also knew when customers were getting too rowdy. Her goal? To keep conflict from arising.
And to go one shift without having to write up damages. The book she kept them in was thicker than most textbooks and double the physical size, and her handwriting was ridiculously tiny. So much you needed a magnifying glass just to read it.
She glanced at Dorsan, "How's it taste?"