Post by La Pucelle d'Orléans on Jul 11, 2012 6:29:09 GMT -5
Ｊｅａｎｎｅ Ｄ' Ａｒｃ
T h e F a l l e n M a i d e n
Francis, tu as tant de chose à dire
Mais le tout reste enfermé
Et quand tu ne sais plus quoi dire
Tu te mets à pleurer
Mais ça ton publique ne le voit pas
Tu l'incites à rêver, pendant que toi tu le regardes
DATA
T h e F a l l e n M a i d e n
Francis, tu as tant de chose à dire
Mais le tout reste enfermé
Et quand tu ne sais plus quoi dire
Tu te mets à pleurer
Mais ça ton publique ne le voit pas
Tu l'incites à rêver, pendant que toi tu le regardes
DATA
Class:
A former human, turned Metal-Man (or woman in the girl's case).
When she woke up, she didn't have much left.
And although it sounds like that statement would mainly be for wealth and power, it goes double for physical appearance.
Years ago, the young warrior woke up with majority of her skin burnt and her bones broken. She was meant to be a martyr, a sacrifice to all who had witnessed her life.
She had started small, living as a weak and naive village girl during her childhood. She had no experience at the art of war, knowledge at battles and swordplay or education in politics. She grew up doing small things such as playing with other children, weaving and helping around the house. But deep down she knew she had so much more potential that that, so much more to live for. After all, her life had to have some form of importance. There was no way that a simple life of tending sheep and weaving was all she would ever do. She refused to take her final breath staring a lamb in the eye or stitching up a shirt.
Her belief was confirmed when she heard the voice of God, the almighty Himself. She had heard the voices of angels, messengers sent to aid her on her quest to complete her vocation and purpose*. She had seen them in all her grace, was awestruck by their intense beauty and perfection. These were the angels who would stay by her side and become her closest allies.
At least, she had believed so until her betrayal at the hands of the very own gifts that had give her power in the first place.
She was stripped off her strength and title, made the equivalent of dirt and a spare life to throw away. Before her imprisonment, she had been a figure of inspiration and influence. She had acted as the symbol of flaming passion for one's nation, the spark of nationalism and flame of hope in the weak and despairing. The enemy had cursed her name, fled in fear at the mere sight of her graceful banner. On the field of war and back in cities of ruins men had yelled " Vive le France!", their cheers echoing through the ravaged, blood-stained land like a lion's might roar. Defeating all odds, she had brought her country to justice and revolution and under her leadership had brought the help divine of intervention to the beaten and oppressed people of her war-ravaged country. Her enemies would quake in fear at the silver flash of her blade; the noblemen would twitch and panic, struggle their hardest to maintain a calm and knowing facade. The tide had turned, the Almighty had chosen a side to defend. And honored to be the one to lead His army on earth the woman rushed into battle, her determination and hope never wavering until the day of her death.
She was known as the Pucelle, the 'Maid of Orleans', the Savior of France.
She had been willing to die for her cause, to finally pass away happily into the light of paradise.
But of course her killers, those blasted English nobles, wouldn't give her such an easy time out.
After all, she had to pay for the humiliation that she had caused them to face.
Someone had to suffer for the taint and grime that had corrupted their reputations and images.
Time was manipulated, her body was somehow saved before the last seconds of her life. Taken into a new age beyond her former imagination ( but one that felt so similar at the same time), the woman was given a new cause.
But was it one that she wanted?
That she could not say.
Waking up with new body parts and replaced skin, the warrior's life was spared and extended. She had been yanked away from rest and final sleep. It was appreciated, yes... And the new strength was also an added bonus.
Still, was this new chance worth going on for?
Did the ends really justify the means?
In the end, there was no turning back for her.
The Maid of Orleans was now to be a simple, part-human mercenary and vigilante.
And there was really nothing she could do about it.
When she woke up, she didn't have much left.
And although it sounds like that statement would mainly be for wealth and power, it goes double for physical appearance.
Years ago, the young warrior woke up with majority of her skin burnt and her bones broken. She was meant to be a martyr, a sacrifice to all who had witnessed her life.
She had started small, living as a weak and naive village girl during her childhood. She had no experience at the art of war, knowledge at battles and swordplay or education in politics. She grew up doing small things such as playing with other children, weaving and helping around the house. But deep down she knew she had so much more potential that that, so much more to live for. After all, her life had to have some form of importance. There was no way that a simple life of tending sheep and weaving was all she would ever do. She refused to take her final breath staring a lamb in the eye or stitching up a shirt.
Her belief was confirmed when she heard the voice of God, the almighty Himself. She had heard the voices of angels, messengers sent to aid her on her quest to complete her vocation and purpose*. She had seen them in all her grace, was awestruck by their intense beauty and perfection. These were the angels who would stay by her side and become her closest allies.
At least, she had believed so until her betrayal at the hands of the very own gifts that had give her power in the first place.
She was stripped off her strength and title, made the equivalent of dirt and a spare life to throw away. Before her imprisonment, she had been a figure of inspiration and influence. She had acted as the symbol of flaming passion for one's nation, the spark of nationalism and flame of hope in the weak and despairing. The enemy had cursed her name, fled in fear at the mere sight of her graceful banner. On the field of war and back in cities of ruins men had yelled " Vive le France!", their cheers echoing through the ravaged, blood-stained land like a lion's might roar. Defeating all odds, she had brought her country to justice and revolution and under her leadership had brought the help divine of intervention to the beaten and oppressed people of her war-ravaged country. Her enemies would quake in fear at the silver flash of her blade; the noblemen would twitch and panic, struggle their hardest to maintain a calm and knowing facade. The tide had turned, the Almighty had chosen a side to defend. And honored to be the one to lead His army on earth the woman rushed into battle, her determination and hope never wavering until the day of her death.
She was known as the Pucelle, the 'Maid of Orleans', the Savior of France.
She had been willing to die for her cause, to finally pass away happily into the light of paradise.
But of course her killers, those blasted English nobles, wouldn't give her such an easy time out.
After all, she had to pay for the humiliation that she had caused them to face.
Someone had to suffer for the taint and grime that had corrupted their reputations and images.
Time was manipulated, her body was somehow saved before the last seconds of her life. Taken into a new age beyond her former imagination ( but one that felt so similar at the same time), the woman was given a new cause.
But was it one that she wanted?
That she could not say.
Waking up with new body parts and replaced skin, the warrior's life was spared and extended. She had been yanked away from rest and final sleep. It was appreciated, yes... And the new strength was also an added bonus.
Still, was this new chance worth going on for?
Did the ends really justify the means?
In the end, there was no turning back for her.
The Maid of Orleans was now to be a simple, part-human mercenary and vigilante.
And there was really nothing she could do about it.
Species:
Pardon the correction but, none.
Admittedly she still gets confused between whether she is considered more of a man or a machine though.
Admittedly she still gets confused between whether she is considered more of a man or a machine though.
Name:
Jeanne D'arc; La Pucelle de France
Nickname(s):
A nickname, you say? Ah... she had never really thought much about having one of those. Oh, it is not that she never wanted or accepted any though. It was more due to reasons of...
Well. When you were in the middle of leading a war and keeping the spirits of thousands of men up, you often did not have much time to ponder on such temporal things like sobriquets and creating diminutives.
Besides, she had a habit of forgetting some of the ones she planned on implementing. Honestly, there had been a few. But majority of them had been buried underneath the avalanche of plans to be followed up on and orders to be done.
After all, her priority was completing her mission of crowning the Dauphin and earning both the peace and stability that the land deserved so greatly. So going along with that, she took any title that she was given by the public (such as La Pucelle, The Maiden, etc) quite easily. Unless of course, you called her a heretic wench or whore like they had done in her
With some of the charges, it was obvious that they had mainly only been trying to get rid off her as soon, humiliatingly, painfully and permanently as possible.
Still with her lessened... schedule... maybe she could afford to make a few up.
She did not have much better to do.
Birthday:
30 May 1431
[Note; In history, this was the real figure's day of death. But I implemented it for her birthday here because, it was technically the day she was taken and changed. ]
[Note; In history, this was the real figure's day of death. But I implemented it for her birthday here because, it was technically the day she was taken and changed. ]
House:
A house?
Ah, you must be mistaken.
Jeanne had never in her life been considered nobility. She came from a small background, had her life erupt into fame (or infamy depending on how you looked at it) and later returned to the ashes once again.
After being taken from her time, she began to act on a neutral side. Completing jobs for money and pay, the maiden slowly began the process of adjustment.
Now, it's not very honorable. But a woman has to make a living from something, yes?
She's not an assassin.
God forbid she be able to do any job in stealth with her fiery attitude.
Still she does act as a vigilante, enforcing judgment on people she believes should return to the fires and depths of hell eternal.
Using any information she was able to get from commoners, sources and noblemen alike, the woman's job was to get rid of those who burdened the new world.
But if you were to ask whether she leaned more towards mercenary work or vigilante work, she would probably reply with the latter. Although she did take jobs in order to earn ( when necessary), she much preferred implanting her own verdict on the people unlucky enough to be noticed or picked out by her.
It was more of a personal preference.
Ah, you must be mistaken.
Jeanne had never in her life been considered nobility. She came from a small background, had her life erupt into fame (or infamy depending on how you looked at it) and later returned to the ashes once again.
After being taken from her time, she began to act on a neutral side. Completing jobs for money and pay, the maiden slowly began the process of adjustment.
Now, it's not very honorable. But a woman has to make a living from something, yes?
She's not an assassin.
God forbid she be able to do any job in stealth with her fiery attitude.
Still she does act as a vigilante, enforcing judgment on people she believes should return to the fires and depths of hell eternal.
Using any information she was able to get from commoners, sources and noblemen alike, the woman's job was to get rid of those who burdened the new world.
But if you were to ask whether she leaned more towards mercenary work or vigilante work, she would probably reply with the latter. Although she did take jobs in order to earn ( when necessary), she much preferred implanting her own verdict on the people unlucky enough to be noticed or picked out by her.
It was more of a personal preference.
Francis, les mots restent bien coincés devant cette fille qui ne demande
Pas mieux que de se faire aimer
Mais toi, tu ne sais pas comment t'y prendre
Ta gorge se resserre, et ton cœur bat de plus belle
Alors que tes yeux sont sur elle
Eye Color:
When she was human, her eye color was....
Strange, she couldn't really remember what it was.
But if she had to guess, it would either be a lightish green or blue. Or it could have been amber or brown...
Now, they had given her one which was more of a green-ish hue. She couldn't complain much though, seeing that it was better than having none. But if she had had a choice in choosing ( and of course she hadn't), then she would have stuck to her previous eye color.
Not that she could remember what it was though.
Or how they had changed it and implanted the changes.
But maybe the less questions she asked, the better.
Hair Color and style:
A light blonde color cut short for easy maintenance and fit into a helmet. Not that she had time to care much about the former though. She pretty much had made it that way for battle purposes. But some say that she had cut her hair when her village was burned down. Returning to the normally blissful and chattering town, the girl had been excited to take a break and good rest for the day. She was still young and innocent then, unknowing of the things about to change her life forever.
Having noticed an unnatural silence, Jeanne frowned. " Hello?" she called out, " Is anyone here?" Normally, one would be able to hear the sounds of laughing and dancing from where she was standing. After all, she hadn't strayed too far from her hometown of Domrémy. And although it could often be ungodly dreary around there, it wasn't that... quiet either.
A sudden scream erupted from behind her, followed by the sound of laughter and jeering. Pushing her way through the brambles and thickets of the trees, the girl headed back to the square. The sound of footsteps thumped unevenly as light feet trod on the surface of smooth cobblestone. Thud-Thud-Thud. Echoing hollowly, it remained the only sound that hung in the damp and humid air.
Running up the stairs to the center of the plaza, the girl stopped. Flames had gathered on houses and trees, burning down everything she had known in its scarlet intensity. Ashes and cinders surrounded her, carried by the night wind that blew swiftly and quietly. Hissing softly, embers and sparks glowed faintly in the evening light. Frenchmen lay unconscious on the ground, the people she had grown knowing falling into weakness and desperation. A few cried out in dying screeches, beseeching the Almighty to take their souls into his embrace.
There was nothing any of them could do about it.
There was nothing any of them could have done about it.
"Dieu nous aide" she muttered softly, tears sliding down her face,
"God help us."
Height:
5'2.
Weight:
125lbs
Build:
She's of medium stature for her age, nothing special or new. While she's not frail enough to break in a hit, she's not muscular or full-figured either. Being only in her late teens, the Pucelle is definitely not someone you would call voluptuous or sexually attractive. She isn't, as they say, 'gifted' in the upper area either. In fact, one soldier once remarked that if she had been any more...underdeveloped. , she would have been 'as flat as the very plains she tended in her youth'.
Needless to say, he didn't survive very long in the army.
Jeanne had made sure of that.
But the thing that caught the most attention in her would probably be her strength in spirit. That fortitude made her seem much bigger than she actually was. She was young and inexperienced but had resolve that could be seen in soldiers who had battled for many years on many battlefields. With head held high, she emanated confidence and strength that could have been uncommon to someone of the age nineteen.
It also gave an added height bonus to someone who needed it.
Needless to say, he didn't survive very long in the army.
Jeanne had made sure of that.
But the thing that caught the most attention in her would probably be her strength in spirit. That fortitude made her seem much bigger than she actually was. She was young and inexperienced but had resolve that could be seen in soldiers who had battled for many years on many battlefields. With head held high, she emanated confidence and strength that could have been uncommon to someone of the age nineteen.
It also gave an added height bonus to someone who needed it.
Distinguishing Features:
Jeanne has a scar on her chest from where she was shot by an arrow.
" Jeanne, you really should be more careful. A few more inches and it would have pierced your heart."
Wincing, the Frenchwoman gritted her teeth. A vein ticked under her chin as she bit her tongue.
Cleaning the area over her chest, a young nobleman threw a sympathetic glance at the impulsive Pucelle. She had rushed into battle, calling her heart out to the soldiers she was leading and the ones who were beginning to fall. It had been the turn of events for France, the changing battle. But in the process, the young woman had pushed her limits. " I'm fine," she said stubbornly, applying the rag near the injured and bleeding area, "It is just a flesh wound. Shall we get back to the troops? Someone needs to congratulate them for their victory."
" Mademoiselle, the soldiers are fine. Can you not hear them cheer and howl with joy? They know they've won today's fight. But for the Pucelle to go out in such a state would worry them."
With a small frown, the woman leaned back. " I suppose," she sighed, " Still, I have to admit that today wasn't something I had not expected." Looking up to the noble man, her eyes brightened. " After all, the voice of God is on our side," she smiled, " He had already warned me of what would happen today. That I would be shot in battle. When it happened, I was in awe.
They had been right. The messengers had been correct about the injury."
" Then why did you not try to stop it?"
" Bah!" she scoffed, brushing off the question " If it is the will of God, I will live. Like I am doing now. "
Throwing the woman a worried look, the noble replied. With disheartened sigh, he shrugged. Once she was like this, there was no stopping her. " Alright," he gave in, " But do try to stay out of the line of fire next time you plan on being shot.
It really is a burden to have to explain to the Dauphin that the Pucelle has been shot with an arrow by the English.
It is also unsightly to see you, or anyone on that note, with an arrow jutting out of the chest. It makes me noxious just thinking of it again." With a light laugh, the woman smiled warmly. " If you would like to continue traveling with us, monsieur, " she replied mischievously,"then you'd best get used to the sight of that. There may be many more to come. And to help you get accustomed, maybe I shall make you honorary 'Arrow-puller'. From this day on, you can remove any arrows that may have penetrated through the armor of the troops. "
" Oh...I can hardly wait...."
" Don't look so down" she chuckled, removing the heavy, bloodied armor, " You know I jest." Pulling off the chest plate and grabbing a new shirt, the Pucelle frowned. " Would you apply the bandage for me, monsieur?" she asked, not even a hint of taunt or seductiveness in her voice (which was quite rare for women of that time) , " it's a bit difficult for me to tie the back." Blushing profusely, the man nodded. Attempting to look away from the girl's nude and shirtless state, the noble tried to tie the knot. Still, he couldn't help but feel the blood rush up to his face.
"Hmmm..." he grumbled, his hands slipping and failing. Feeling the warmness of her flesh, the noble turned redder.
It was hard to tie without looking at what you were doing.
"Why do you that?" came a curt reply from the impatient Jeanne.
" Do what?"
" Look away. Why do you do look away? Is it not making the task at hand more difficult?"
Tying a fail excuse for a knot, the noble coughed awkwardly. " Well, would you not feel that it is a bit...err... degenerate if I looked?" Frowning the woman threw the nobleman an indifferent look. " Do you respect me?"
" W-wha--? O-of course. "
" Do I look like food to you?"
" N-no..."
" Then you should have nothing to worry about," she said curtly, securing and tightening the noble's former attempt a knot, " To think perversely of another man or woman is to look at them like simple meat.
You degrade them to nothing more than a toy or a cake.
Something pretty to the eye but useless and equating to nothing in the future.
You add nothing to it just as it adds nothing to you.
A truly respectable person does not have to work on using sexual enticement to attract the 'respect' or attention from another. He or she can simply act with their dignity and humanity.
If you truly respect me, like you said you do, then you should have nothing to fear. That respect will keep your mind pure and your image of another untainted and corrupted." Throwing on a cloth shirt, the woman stood. " Well then, shall we be departing? If we do not make haste, we will miss the festivities. And after all, it it a small calm before the storm. Its best to appreciate while we still can."
" O-of course, madame Pucelle. A-and I'm sorry for--"
Silencing the man, Jeanne smiled. " I had heard the rumors." she said, " In the past, you looked at women like playthings, dolls and food. That is why you joined the cause. To make up for it, perhaps?
Well, think of them as that no longer.
You came to help and volunteered to assist partly out of concern but also out of lust. You wanted to see if there were openings or 'tricks' you could try to get me to agree to your terms. It would have been like the other times, just like the other women you managed to use.
I was merely another thing to you.
But you paled at the sight of this nude woman and saw it as something vulgar and perverse. You shrunk back and retained the animalistic attraction during this situation. Why? Was it shame or guilt, monsieur? Or did you not feel the desire?"
" I-I'm not sure. I saw the opportunity of a pretty and vulnerable woman but did not feel the... flame or will to corrupt it. It felt much too...."
" Sinful? That is because you were presented with something incorruptible, something that didn't shove a desperate want to be tainted down your throat. You saw a woman who respected her own body, a young virgin of the light. You were shown something that knew it was more than just a toy for another's pleasure and mere meat product.
How prostitutes and whores waste their potential for greatness. They receive affection that lasts a mere one-night and crumbles as time's sand are blown into the wind. But one who retains their virginity such as I is longer able to gloat and boast about it. After all, how easy it is to fall into the temptation without realizing one can never go back.
Now if you are ready, let us go." Opening the door, the girl flashed a smirk to the nobleman before leaving. " I shall wait for you near the plaza. Feel free to think as long as you desire."
Left alone in the room, the man was left winded.
What a peculiar woman.
But now he understood why the other soldiers never openly flashed suggestive looks at the young woman.
Her body was a glorious temple, one that needed to be left pure.
And to taint it would be to turn it into something twisted and ugly.
It would be like having a beautiful flower with flowing petals and vibrant colors
and then picking it apart until nothing remained
but a naked stem.
Typical Dress:
Up to now, it is highly known the Jeanne wears men's clothes quite often. She has no problems with wearing dresses and skirts though, don't get her wrong. She just feels that it is easier to fight and move around in pants.
You also have to take into account the situation she was in. During that time, women were looked down upon and ignored. They were meant to be seen but not heard.
In order to get and be accepted into a society that only accepted males, she had to find a way to 'become' one of them. If she did not, her help would not be accepted. For if a man were to help a man, the one he saved would say thank you. But if a woman were to help a man, the latter would never accept it ( feeling that it was degrading and low).
She felt it was a symbol of God's Will and duty for her. It represented the task she had been given and the means she had to take in order to accomplish it. To take it off due to being asked or ordered would be like acknowledging another as higher or more worthy to her than God Himself. And to do that would be blasphemous and ungrateful to the one she owed so much to. But if she was told by the voices to take it off, she would have agreed.
Now even without the voices for help or guidance, she continues to do so. This is mainly for comfort purposes now though.
Orientation:
In terms of where she sways to, would it be alright to say that she doesn't?
In her journeys and quest, she pretty much only had a one track mind. Her goal was to have the dauphin crowned and nothing else.
Petty things like relationships and romance were only things made for faerie tales told the young children before they went to sleep. She didn't have much time to entertain any romantic feelings or try to start any with the people she met either.
After all, she was also saving her body for until she died. She prided on it being pure, untainted, uncorrupted and so on.
No one is really sure if she does have any preferences or if she even feels them at all. For all we know, adolescence will take its toll on her and cause feelings she's never felt.
But until then, she may as well be considered asexual. Although asexuality is different from the religious form of 'celibacy' ( which is abstaining from marriage or sexual relations), she might as well be considered on with where she's been going. She's never actually felt any romantic feelings for anyone, even when she was a young child.
Although that could because the last thing a child cares about when they're little is who they want to marry.
Other Notes:
Face Claim- Jeanne D'arc from Axis Powers!Hetalia
Mais moi, je ne t'oublierai pas et je compte sur toi
Pour venir en aide
À ceux qui ressentent pour toi, ce que tu écris dans ces chansons pour elle
Age:
Jeanne was known as the youngest person in history to lead an army, which she is quite proud of I might add. At the age of ten she had begun to hear the voices. At age fourteen, she started her journey to crown the Dauphin and save France. Along with her youth comes inexperience, which has been known to get her into quite a lot of trouble. Still, it is quite an achievement for someone so young to not die as soon as they hold their first sword or step on the battlefield.
She supposedly had her trial and died at age nineteen, making her age in this story nineteen-years-old.
["Happiness is found through hope; Hope is kept through faith]:
[Likes]
In terms of likes, Jeanne is actually quite easy to please. Just give her a sword, some armor and a shield and she'll be all set. She loves the adrenaline and drive of fighting in a battle, revels in the cheers of her comrades and partners. Although she previously had no experience in fighting, she's found a home and purpose in the fields of war. Nothing can compare to the feeling or charging into a fight on horseback with a sword in one hand and a waving banner in another. These things help her feel as if she has a use, like she has a purpose and reason in life. She's more fond of conversing with common people, due to the fact that she can probably relate with them more. Oh, she'd seen how some nobles acted. Sitting pretty in their thrones as they sent men to die for a cause the didn't love?
Was that not just amazingly considerate of them?
She has a high opinion of herself and enjoys being acknowledged and thanked. Due to her age, she can tend to seem a bit arrogant. This is shown with how she refuses to be corrected or accept any acknowledgment or comments on the faults she commit. She gets irritable and snappish the more a plan is talked over, preferring to rush head first into battle before thinking over the tactics. Tactics were made to be implemented after all, not used as distraction and obstacles to hold up the time it takes to complete a job. For her, wasn't it better to finish a job quickly and well than think over and analyze every single thing that can go wrong with it? She had a strong sense of 'justice' and tended to see things in black and white ( with a few exceptions). When it came to people, it was hard for her to give them more than one chance at earning her respect. But the graveness and hardship of that would depend greatly on the action and how against her ideals it was.
She's a nationalist and has high respect and love for the land of her birth. This explains her long lasting grudge on the English, which she found out was 'solved' a long time ago. Of course, she didn't agree to their means, just like she hadn't agreed when the Dauphin was finally crowned and planned to stop and make peace through talking and stating/discussing both terms. For the Pucelle, it hadn't been enough. She needed resolution that showed quickly and effectively, not a plan or deal that would lead to a short alliance but subside and disappear a few months later. The only way, for her, was to make sure that the English would never try again. And to do that, they had to have the lesson jammed and imprinted into their heads for centuries to come.
She desired and loved to see the outcome of her toil and effort. It made her feel that she had actually helped and made a difference to her cause.
She could work alone but was fond of working with groups and companions. She found unity in the diversity of an army of people with different backgrounds. For her, you got more work done when you had other people to tie up the job on all sides.
Living the lonely life of a soldier, the Pucelle tended to isolate herself when not collaborating with others. But during those times, she enjoyed having those moments to let herself think. She's not very fond of plays ( thinking of them as a waste of time) and enjoyed winter of all the seasons.
For her, she couldn't help but love the pure white snow that covered the ground in a powdered blanket. Its cold chill was always a pleasure for her, reminding her of her younger days playing hide & seek under the forest trees with her siblings and friends.
During those times, it wouldn't be rare or uncommon to see the Frenchwoman taking short walks outside the outskirts of the City and along the cold, smooth streets and alleys. Normally, she didn't really plan those walks. She'd just go around anywhere and end up in whatever place she felt like going to.
[There are some things that make you want to crash down and weep; there are times you can't help but ask " Why?"]
[dislikes]
If there's one thing that Jeanne hates the most, it would probably be when and how some others seem to have a lecherous fascination with flirting and attracting her. Countless times she's stated that she had meant to present herself to God at the end of her life untainted. But some people really don't get a hint. They insist on 'hitting' on and attempting to seduce the young girl as a form of sport.
Who can claim the virgin maiden?
It's all a game for them.
For the Pucelle, it's more than just a little decision made out of want. It was her duty and sacrifice, her payment to God in return for the intervention given to her country and herself. Another thing that could be added to that would be, she doesn't really see the point in selling one's soul to temporal pleasures.
"When you fall into those animalistic urges, you become nothing more than an animal yourself.
Walking around blindly, seeking for someone to notice and claim your body as their own?
If you have an identity and a persona, why not use it?
It is not that the only thing you can do in life is throw yourself like a ragdoll into the laps of every interested person you meet. What happens to the devotion and sacrifice to give everything to the one you want and truly love? Can you really only give half of your self and expect all of them in return?"
While she doesn't hate them, she has no fondness for prostitutes and whores. The ones who are forced into the act receive her sympathy. But she cannot say much about those who do it for the wealth (which is majority) and 'status' ( which is an importance that only lasts a night). Dressed up like dolls with paint plastered and smeared all over their faces, they looked and were like the mannequins that you would have seen back home in stores of attire and fashion. They were the cloth-stuffed puppets that you threw away after age and later replaced with another brighter, more curvacious and equally plastic-looking replica.
And like the fore-mentioned puppets, they allowed themselves to be
treated and looked at just as one would have looked at one.
Another thing she hates is when people don't take her seriously. They laud and lionize her actions and victories, but come the cry of politics she's used only as a mere puppet and symbol. They shoo her aside as if she was just a young child.
She never minded being a symbol of triumph, but she wanted to be one that acted on her own.
Not just one that followed commands.
On that note, she doesn't follow the orders of just anyone either. The only ones she willingly accepts are the voices and her own. To get her to agree, one would have to show her a reason that they deserved her respect. After all, what was the point of following a leader who didn't even attempt or try to seem respectable?
That would be like the blind leading the blind and blindfolded.
[Ambition is the drive that spurs you on. Without determination, you will not even get as far as a rock can fly.
Which is, if I might add, not very far at all.]
-
[ambitions]
- "I would rather die than do a thing which I know to be a sin or against the will of God."
-"Have no fear for in God's name we fight!
Do not weep at the sight of an army of men crashing down on all sides
for the Mighty Lord's reach can surpass five times that!
Do not flee at the sound of the opposition's roar
for the white dove's song and cry can silence any sound
no matter how loud!
You may feel the persistent arms of fear tangle around your body and try to pull you into the abyss. But it is only an illusion, a simple trick of mind planted by the enemy. God has chosen us as his people over anyone else.
It would matter not if the English's army was tripled to thrice its size
or if all our men were handicapped, deaf and blind.
As long as we move forward in faith, we can defeat any enemy!
Trust and keep hope as we move towards the light of the new day
and together we shall fight to grant France its full-deserved power!
We shall achieve freedom,
triumph,
and victory in the name of the Holy One!
Aide toi et Dieu t'aidera!
Aid yourself and God will aid you!"
-"Ever since that dreadful day of being captured by the, as they seem to be called, Silverhollows, I have been lost in a new time and era. With my last breath, I will make the one who placed me into this situation pay a hefty price for crossing me! Until the day I die, I will live to see them fall!"
-" One day, I hope to return to the green lushness of my homeland."
[ambitions]
- "I would rather die than do a thing which I know to be a sin or against the will of God."
-"Have no fear for in God's name we fight!
Do not weep at the sight of an army of men crashing down on all sides
for the Mighty Lord's reach can surpass five times that!
Do not flee at the sound of the opposition's roar
for the white dove's song and cry can silence any sound
no matter how loud!
You may feel the persistent arms of fear tangle around your body and try to pull you into the abyss. But it is only an illusion, a simple trick of mind planted by the enemy. God has chosen us as his people over anyone else.
It would matter not if the English's army was tripled to thrice its size
or if all our men were handicapped, deaf and blind.
As long as we move forward in faith, we can defeat any enemy!
Trust and keep hope as we move towards the light of the new day
and together we shall fight to grant France its full-deserved power!
We shall achieve freedom,
triumph,
and victory in the name of the Holy One!
Aide toi et Dieu t'aidera!
Aid yourself and God will aid you!"
-"Ever since that dreadful day of being captured by the, as they seem to be called, Silverhollows, I have been lost in a new time and era. With my last breath, I will make the one who placed me into this situation pay a hefty price for crossing me! Until the day I die, I will live to see them fall!"
-" One day, I hope to return to the green lushness of my homeland."
[Fear]
Although she would never admit it, Jeanne is deathly afraid of fire. But with her past experience, can you really blame her?
It seems like the red incinerator had no other purpose except to destroy all things she held dear. Up to this day, she can still recall the hot tongues of flames as they licked her bare flesh at the stake. She can still remember the hissing whispers, working silently up her feet, then, legs, then torso.
Fire was a tool for everyday living.
But it could also be a malevolent weapon.
It held neither remorse for the things it burned up, nor did it feel pity for those that stood in its way. Like a colossus it stood tall and mightily, consuming everything with its mighty maw. It pulled and collected, sucked everything into it reach. And when it was done, it burned it all to ash and dust.
Leaving nothing but a faint memory to be blown along with the wind, fire was the powerful, unnoticed killer that could take a life as easily as the flick of a hand or match.
It worked slowly and quietly but with extravagance and majesty. Enraptured and dazzled by the arms of flames, their audience could do nothing more but stare in awe at the unluckiness of its next victims. They cheered and guffawed, laughing at one another and chattering.
But she knew.
She knew that in the back of their minds, they all thought the same thing.
" I hope it won't be me."
Strengths:
-
-
- [Determination]
- [Has some experience in battle (by now)]
- [Can relate with the lower class and medium (being one herself) ]
-
- [Determination]
- [Has some experience in battle (by now)]
- [Can relate with the lower class and medium (being one herself) ]
Weaknesses
-
- [One track mind]
- [Impulsive]
- [Arrogant and confident to a fault]
- [No former experience or training at politics, battle or the art of war]
- [One track mind]
- [Impulsive]
- [Arrogant and confident to a fault]
- [No former experience or training at politics, battle or the art of war]
Habits:
-
-[Before a battle or fight, she normally tried to stop by a nearby chapel and prays for guidance and strength. Even trapped in a new, confusing era, she still does so.]
-[When she's all alone, she dreams of the pastures and fields of France in all their majesty and grace.]
-[ If it can be helped, she tries not to plan battles on Sundays or Holy days. Lately, she's been failing at this though and goes into it whenever necessary now.]
-[Before a battle or fight, she normally tried to stop by a nearby chapel and prays for guidance and strength. Even trapped in a new, confusing era, she still does so.]
-[When she's all alone, she dreams of the pastures and fields of France in all their majesty and grace.]
-[ If it can be helped, she tries not to plan battles on Sundays or Holy days. Lately, she's been failing at this though and goes into it whenever necessary now.]
Overall Personality:
-
We have a young girl commonly looked upon as a hero in the time frame of history. We see her as a saintess and warrior, capable and knowing. But is she really the person we think she is?
Saints are normally equated with perfection and majesty. They carry airs of goodness, light and devotion. While in terms of nature Jeanne was good, she was definitely not perfect. She was arrogant and loud, fond of bragging about her accomplishments and acts. She thought very highly of herself, feeling that she was made and meant to do many great things in her lifetime.
All in all, she was far from a humble and friendly woman.
She had the ferocity of a soldier, the determination and drive of someone on a mission. She was impulsive in her decisions and choices, preferring to fight first and ask later. She was loyal to her comrades but naive in terms of politics. She had a one-track mind with a single goal, to which she never strayed from.
In comparison to others, she could be looked at as an optimist.
After all, one had to be hopeful when it came to battle.
But if she was, she would be a very violent one.
They called her just,
but she was in fact very subjective.
She based most decisions on emotions, not fond of hiding or bottling things up. People deserved to hear things "as they were; like they" were after all. To hide important information and emotions would not spare their innocence but leave them questioning in the dark, condemning them to walk the same path of mistakes over and over again until some other person told them what was wrong. And who knew when that would be?
Might as well spare them and others the time.
Jeanne was very blunt in her words and actions, hardly thinking of how others would take them in the end. If they didn't agree, then too bad. If they did, then they would work together on it. Overall, she felt she should be in command of her own destiny.
And ironically that destiny was to follow.
But not follow just anyone,
she was meant to follow someone greater than she could comprehend.
She has a strong will and a firm mind, believing that her beliefs are the true ones. She despises being corrected and normally throws any remarks of they type aside.
But to say that she's innocent would be completely wrong. To say she was faultless would be even worse.
In her life, she collected the blood of many soldiers on her hands. But the way she looked at it was that ' it was God's Will'. She left her parents confused and angry because 'God demanded she do so'. She prided herself on following His orders, even if it meant hurting others in the process.
Why?
Because it was a cause she believed in.
Ethics were something that were important to hold up.
But for her, they could be superseded if the task called for it.
We have a young girl commonly looked upon as a hero in the time frame of history. We see her as a saintess and warrior, capable and knowing. But is she really the person we think she is?
Saints are normally equated with perfection and majesty. They carry airs of goodness, light and devotion. While in terms of nature Jeanne was good, she was definitely not perfect. She was arrogant and loud, fond of bragging about her accomplishments and acts. She thought very highly of herself, feeling that she was made and meant to do many great things in her lifetime.
All in all, she was far from a humble and friendly woman.
She had the ferocity of a soldier, the determination and drive of someone on a mission. She was impulsive in her decisions and choices, preferring to fight first and ask later. She was loyal to her comrades but naive in terms of politics. She had a one-track mind with a single goal, to which she never strayed from.
In comparison to others, she could be looked at as an optimist.
After all, one had to be hopeful when it came to battle.
But if she was, she would be a very violent one.
They called her just,
but she was in fact very subjective.
She based most decisions on emotions, not fond of hiding or bottling things up. People deserved to hear things "as they were; like they" were after all. To hide important information and emotions would not spare their innocence but leave them questioning in the dark, condemning them to walk the same path of mistakes over and over again until some other person told them what was wrong. And who knew when that would be?
Might as well spare them and others the time.
Jeanne was very blunt in her words and actions, hardly thinking of how others would take them in the end. If they didn't agree, then too bad. If they did, then they would work together on it. Overall, she felt she should be in command of her own destiny.
And ironically that destiny was to follow.
But not follow just anyone,
she was meant to follow someone greater than she could comprehend.
She has a strong will and a firm mind, believing that her beliefs are the true ones. She despises being corrected and normally throws any remarks of they type aside.
But to say that she's innocent would be completely wrong. To say she was faultless would be even worse.
In her life, she collected the blood of many soldiers on her hands. But the way she looked at it was that ' it was God's Will'. She left her parents confused and angry because 'God demanded she do so'. She prided herself on following His orders, even if it meant hurting others in the process.
Why?
Because it was a cause she believed in.
Ethics were something that were important to hold up.
But for her, they could be superseded if the task called for it.
Other Notes:---
-
Francis, je m'en vais bientôt et je pense très très fort à toi
Pendant que mes doigts au piano jouent tout ce que je te dois
Et rappelle-toi que tu peux avoir le monde à tes pieds
Si tu ne te laisses pas abattre par ceux qui te laissent de côté
Birthplace:
Jeanne was born in Domrémy, France.
Parents:
-
She was the daughter of Jacques d'Arc and Isabelle Romée.
After some... events.... her relationship with them hasn't been very good.
Her father wasn't too pleased with the thought of his daughter hearing voices. But then again, can you blame him? And it didn't help either that she later went off without their permission to fight in a war that she might not come out of alive with the reason of " Because God's voice commanded I do so."
Siblings:
-
In the past, Jeanne was one of four children. On another note, she was the youngest of them all. Three of her siblings were male while the last female. They were Jacquemin, Jean, and Pierre D'arc and the last sister's name was unknown.
Not a lot is known about them, especially her sister. ( Feel free to use that if you'd like)
And sadly, Jeanne watched her die an early death.
In the past, Jeanne was one of four children. On another note, she was the youngest of them all. Three of her siblings were male while the last female. They were Jacquemin, Jean, and Pierre D'arc and the last sister's name was unknown.
Not a lot is known about them, especially her sister. ( Feel free to use that if you'd like)
And sadly, Jeanne watched her die an early death.
Education:
Most of the things she knew were taught to her by her mother. Her mother was the one who taught her how to do her simple prayers and do house chores such as weaving and spinning. In her free time ( which is very rarely) Jeanne still does these things out of her pride and its use.
Not many people can say they can wield a blade with force but work with their fingers using just as much finesse as the other. When she was little, Jeanne would even brag to everyone in the villages that she was the best at what she did and that no one could equal her at it.
She still maintains the opinion now, only she doesn't really put as much emphasis on making blankets and quilts perfectly as she did before.
Not many people can say they can wield a blade with force but work with their fingers using just as much finesse as the other. When she was little, Jeanne would even brag to everyone in the villages that she was the best at what she did and that no one could equal her at it.
She still maintains the opinion now, only she doesn't really put as much emphasis on making blankets and quilts perfectly as she did before.
History:
In the past, you could say she had been owned by her country and her beliefs. She had willingly worked for the people of her land, happy to go head first into any situation if called for. Her life was something spendable but her legacy would be one that lived on for years to come. In a similar way, anything the voices told her would be completed with little to no questions. The people received freedom from her struggles and in exchange she got glory, experience and was able to complete her job.
She had a glorious future ahead of her, which had later turned into a desolate and lonely dust-covered path. It had been a tainted road, one painted with blood and loss. But, it was the only life she could and had lived. In the end, she had been betrayed by the voices that had led her, the dauphin she had struggled and sacrificed so much to crown, and the very people she had worked to save. But at least, she had faded away while doing it for a cause, for the sake of something important.
She could have passed on into the light as a hero but was forced to continue on as a mercenary, a simple hired warrior and a slave. In the new era, she had been degraded to the point of being owned by the ancestors of the very same people who had wanted her dead, who wanted her killed and judged. And oh, how she had loathed it. How she loathed them. The way she had glared at the them, the ones who had woken her up and kept her from eternal happiness and rest, was one filled with burning rage and spite. Those blasted Silverhollow fools and their experiments had ruined everything. And how happy they seemed, how proud of themselves they looked. If she hadn’t been bandaged up and stiff in the joints, she would have attacked and tore them all down on the spot. That is until she realized that she didn’t have any weapons with her and that the closest thing she’d get to a blade were her fingernails ( which if I may add, were not very sharp). With happy expressions, they introduced her to the new world she was in.
No longer would she be a woman of the olden time.
She was now in the new era, a land of wonder, evolution and advancement.
It was a place beyond anyone’s comprehension or imagination….
Listening halfheartedly to the rabble, she couldn’t help but yawn. As they noticed their experiment become uncomfortable and fidgety, they fools became worried. Eyes narrowing at the approaching scientists, Jeanne recoiled in disgust. Those Englishmen… she wouldn’t let them do to her what they had done!
Days passed without any effect, the scientists became weary. Their ‘lab rat’ (or so Jeanne believe they called her when she wasn’t looking) was still as hostile as ever. They had planned to make her a weapon to use against the other Metal-men along with the new magnetic weapons developed earlier ago. After all, one could fight fire with fire if they had enough resources.
But based on their progress, that definitely would not be a possibility. They would have to find away to swear her to secrecy and give her to the enforcers. There, she would be sent to complete manual labor. After all, she didn’t remember much of her background or who she was. They didn’t have to worry about her revealing who she was.
Of course with her sense of pride, she refused to let that happen. Breaking away from the lab, the woman ran. She refused to commit herself to jobs of labor, toil and low pay, so she created a new life for herself. She had chosen neutrality over good and evil, lived a life in the loneliness of isolation. But in a way, you could say she was and is still owned by the past. Lost in denial and repetition, the woman struggles to find a place and to make sense of why she was taken. She's left wondering if she could have fixed or done anything better, unable to do much except question ' What if' and 'Why'.
No longer was she the Pucelle, the Maiden or the Savior.
Now, she was just Jeanne.
She was the girl who was lost in a time not hers, a fallen saintess.
The only thing she’s really sure of is this;
The ones who had brought her to such a horrid situation would have to pay the ultimate price.
Their lives.
She had a glorious future ahead of her, which had later turned into a desolate and lonely dust-covered path. It had been a tainted road, one painted with blood and loss. But, it was the only life she could and had lived. In the end, she had been betrayed by the voices that had led her, the dauphin she had struggled and sacrificed so much to crown, and the very people she had worked to save. But at least, she had faded away while doing it for a cause, for the sake of something important.
She could have passed on into the light as a hero but was forced to continue on as a mercenary, a simple hired warrior and a slave. In the new era, she had been degraded to the point of being owned by the ancestors of the very same people who had wanted her dead, who wanted her killed and judged. And oh, how she had loathed it. How she loathed them. The way she had glared at the them, the ones who had woken her up and kept her from eternal happiness and rest, was one filled with burning rage and spite. Those blasted Silverhollow fools and their experiments had ruined everything. And how happy they seemed, how proud of themselves they looked. If she hadn’t been bandaged up and stiff in the joints, she would have attacked and tore them all down on the spot. That is until she realized that she didn’t have any weapons with her and that the closest thing she’d get to a blade were her fingernails ( which if I may add, were not very sharp). With happy expressions, they introduced her to the new world she was in.
No longer would she be a woman of the olden time.
She was now in the new era, a land of wonder, evolution and advancement.
It was a place beyond anyone’s comprehension or imagination….
Listening halfheartedly to the rabble, she couldn’t help but yawn. As they noticed their experiment become uncomfortable and fidgety, they fools became worried. Eyes narrowing at the approaching scientists, Jeanne recoiled in disgust. Those Englishmen… she wouldn’t let them do to her what they had done!
Days passed without any effect, the scientists became weary. Their ‘lab rat’ (or so Jeanne believe they called her when she wasn’t looking) was still as hostile as ever. They had planned to make her a weapon to use against the other Metal-men along with the new magnetic weapons developed earlier ago. After all, one could fight fire with fire if they had enough resources.
But based on their progress, that definitely would not be a possibility. They would have to find away to swear her to secrecy and give her to the enforcers. There, she would be sent to complete manual labor. After all, she didn’t remember much of her background or who she was. They didn’t have to worry about her revealing who she was.
Of course with her sense of pride, she refused to let that happen. Breaking away from the lab, the woman ran. She refused to commit herself to jobs of labor, toil and low pay, so she created a new life for herself. She had chosen neutrality over good and evil, lived a life in the loneliness of isolation. But in a way, you could say she was and is still owned by the past. Lost in denial and repetition, the woman struggles to find a place and to make sense of why she was taken. She's left wondering if she could have fixed or done anything better, unable to do much except question ' What if' and 'Why'.
No longer was she the Pucelle, the Maiden or the Savior.
Now, she was just Jeanne.
She was the girl who was lost in a time not hers, a fallen saintess.
The only thing she’s really sure of is this;
The ones who had brought her to such a horrid situation would have to pay the ultimate price.
Their lives.
Known Facts:
-
-Jeanne is fairly new in the City and is obviously a foreigner.
-She actually has little to no real knowledge of politics, tactics and fighting. But with the experience she had had in the Hundred Years War, she learned to defend herself and survive if necessary.
-She is extremely blunt in her words and the opinions she expresses. -She has a "My way or the highway" attitude, to the point of snapping at those who correct her repeatedly ( whether she's actually wrong or not).
-Jeanne is fairly new in the City and is obviously a foreigner.
-She actually has little to no real knowledge of politics, tactics and fighting. But with the experience she had had in the Hundred Years War, she learned to defend herself and survive if necessary.
-She is extremely blunt in her words and the opinions she expresses. -She has a "My way or the highway" attitude, to the point of snapping at those who correct her repeatedly ( whether she's actually wrong or not).
Rumors:
- According to some of the whispered rumors of the scientists, their experimental 'time machine' had not worked. What had brought Jeanne to that time was the imbalance created in the timeline from the creation and mutations of the metal-men and hybrids. They had found her slumped unconscious in an alleyway one strange, winter mid-afternoon. They had meant to leave her alone until they realized what the day was.
It was the time they had to present their findings and show what they had done.
Knowing they had to give some result to the persistent nobles, who had donated and given a lot of funding to their cause, they worked at transporting her body to the lab. So taking her for their purposes, they had meant to sell her off as a their experiment. They just had to train her and she'd be the perfect thing to infiltrate and spy.
But as we can all tell, that went absolutely splendidly.
-She is the result of an angry, divine being, sent as a messenger to warn and judge them in His holy name. She is the harbinger of the Final Judgement, the one sent to sort the evil from the good.
"With her mighty blade, she hast come to deliver the wrath of the All-knowing, Omnipresent Lord
whose rage at the heretics had become immeasurable
and unimaginable.
She would reap the souls of the corrupted nobles
Bring peace to their land
and return to the gates of paradise once more. "
- In answer to that, some say she's powerless and was betrayed and shunned by any supernatural being that may exist. Others say that the theater made a new story and drama based on the life of 'Joan of Arc'.
Jeanne was their leading actress who threw a hissy fit and left.
-Before her death, she was raped by some of her captors.
Secrets:
-Jeanne had been known for the voices that had led her into victory after victory. In the new age, those voices were nowhere to be seen or (to be more specific) heard from. Secretly, she sometimes feels that she has been abandoned by the very thing she had taken so much comfort in.
She tends to doubt if her God was and is still watching over her, if He still cared enough to come back and save her. She questions why He had allowed her to fall so low, to rise so high only to become immersed in such an abyss of defeat.
To the few people who know her identity, she shrugs it off. She tells them that she can still hear the Heaven-sent voices calling her name and beckoning for her to follow.
She would never be able to admit that she had failed past the point of return.
- The French woman thinks she's losing her mind.
Not only has she become deaf to the voices, she's going through quite a strange state. For the first time in a while, she actually felt... vulnerable. Without the comfort of unseen beings supporting and helping her strive on and an army behind her back, she actually felt quite empty. It didn't help that she couldn't help but miss her homeland of France either.
But that was impossible.
No, she would not sink there. She didn't need the comfort of temporal people and things to make her happy.
She could fight on her own and for herself.
Loneliness was something that a warrior had to live with, no matter who or where they were. It was something natural and unavoidable, like that annoying tick that would come back every so often. But to fail and lose your life due to such a pathetic reason wasn't worth anyone's pity. It was a world where only the strongest and most cunning would prevail and live-- unless you had some unnatural and plot twisting advantage. Seeing that she had neither, she needed to get started on fending for herself.
- She doesn't have any amazing magical powers or divine magic.
She's just a normal human who had a supernatural advantage but lost it.
Et moi, je ne t'oublierai pas et je compte sur toi
Pour venir en aide
À ceux qui ressentent pour toi, ce que tu écris dans ces chansons pour elle
THE PERSON BEHIND THE SCENES
(tell us a bit about yourself)Roleplayer: Schwarzen*Adler- Lovi
But some know me as Gil or Rai.
Years Role-Playing:
I've been seriously roleplaying for five years. And I had a year before that for the learning curve.
[/s]But some know me as Gil or Rai.
Years Role-Playing:
I've been seriously roleplaying for five years. And I had a year before that for the learning curve.
Copy and pasted.
Again XD
[/size]
Contact:
PM would be best.
Other Characters:
Alphred & Nicholas[/center][/size]
