Teasing is an art form. Beauty is a weapon. A courtesan is perfection. When eyes are first laid upon a blossom it is the allure of its outer garb that draws you near - near enough to know the sweetness of its essence. There are few things more satisfactory than the feeling of eyes, attention, like a lovers touch, following the every movement of her intentions. She works it like she made it up.
Character Reference → General
General Info:
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Given Name: Juliette Nōhime Titles & Alias: - Feiyan (飛燕) Faction Alignment: Mage Guild: Fairy Tail Mage Rank: D
Age: 22 Gender: Female Orientation: Ambiguous
Height: 5'9" Weight: 150 lbs Body Type: Amazonian :3
Physical Description:
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Her hair paints a dark sweep across her brow. A curtain of night, A glorious tangle of starless black, her pride is bound in its every string. Her fingers like to find the wispy bits that frame her face, in play. While it was oft tamed by the very nature of propriety, Juliette herself prefers the mass left loose and free-flowing. When unobstructed her hair falls to the small of her back with the slightest tendency to curl. Ribbons are a favored ornament, as are flowers when freshly picked.
Her eyes are a perfect compliment. Like water to sky, there is a silver gleam in both hues that only light can invoke. Threads of ink shift like scales, like waves, in gypsy eyes. The curiosity that first blossomed remains - buried deep! - in irises of unfathomable depth. A gilded dream is her gaze, in all myriads of hues, with thick lashes to frame her lids on top and on bottom.
Even so, it is Juliette's lips that are perhaps the most expressive. Her frustration is theirs to whether; by the bite of teeth, by the weight of her expression. Neither thin nor too full but generously sweeping in the arch of cupids bow, her lips are pink as a rose - and sweet! Should one dare to taste them.
Her face is rarely mussed with cosmetics. A complexion as pale as the ivory moon needn't be stained in the name of beauty, as beauty is there! In every dip and hallow, stretch and swath of long-limbed satin skin. Juliette isn't one predisposed to vanity. Her imperfections are human things she thinks little on. Likewise, those mirrored on others are payed no mind (oft to the bewilderment of the average folk).
She is not as slender as most women seek to be. Her body, fed by genuine work, is healthy and well-proportioned. The practice of dance has lent a play of lean muscle beneath the surface of her skin. While her mother found the tone unseemly for a young lady, Juliette is comfortable as she is.
Armor Name: Whisper Boots - Armor Type: Craftsman: Origin Lore: Her mothers possession, assumed to be a lingering memory of her days past. Level Of Sentience: - Temperament: Weapon Description: - Measurements: - Material: Imbued Properties: Silences the natural noises of movement made at her will. Likewise, if she so wills it, the click of heels may be made audible. Such magical muffling does not extend to noises created by things that come in contact with her, such as the snapping of a twig under foot. Other Effects: Rarity:
- Weaponry:
Iron Fan › Tessen 鉄扇:
"A folding fan with outer spokes made of heavy plates of iron which were designed to look like normal, harmless folding fans or solid clubs shaped to look like a closed fan. Samurai could take these to places where swords or other overt weapons were not allowed, and some swordsmanship schools included training in the use of the tessen as a weapon. The tessen was also used for fending off arrows and darts, and as a throwing weapon."
Aptitudes & Talents: A lady is both beautiful and accomplished. While a certain degree of mastery was required of Juliette in all such things, there are a few she practices with genuine fondness.
An adaptive sort of photographic memory that allows for Juliette to execute, with identical precision, any physical feat she's observed. Ethologus is relative to Archive Magic in terms of how the absorbed knowledge is stored - without the limitations of capacity and recollection of non-magically enhanced memory function. The users power of observation is greatly superior to the average person. Rather than having to devote a majority of her attention to memorization, it acts as a passive ability - carried out subconsciously - that is seemingly effortless.
The passive status of this skill renders it immune to any magic nullification spheres/fields/waves/ or other such states of being and action (such as the magic demonstrated by Yuka Suzuki in the Galuna Island arc); it remains vulnerable and subject to deactivation by magics which remove the arcane reserves from a mages body ( such as the magic demonstrated by Aria in the Phantom Lord arc).
Magic may be copied to be used as plot support, but may not be retained for later use (in other locations, time frames, threads) as a memorized technique.
Technique: 0/3
Capoeira:
- Name: Capoeira - Type: Passive - Effect: The sum knowledge of Juliette's acrobatic and dance-style exposure is translated into offensive and defensive combat maneuvers. From watching the feats carried out, alone, Juliette is able to replicate such moves with the precision expected of a long time practitioner. The feats observed include but are not limited to - Arial Acrobatics, Floor Acrobatics, Leg Sweeps & Power Kicks - Range: N/a - Backlash: N/a
Lip Service:
- Name: Lip Service - Type:Passive - Effect: Juliette has a magically enhanced talent for languages. Her ability to observe and replicate is applied to inflection, speech patterns, and accents. Such a skill significantly reduces the time necessary for the brain to learn to translate a new language, though on an instantaneous level she is only capable of repeating the words she's heard used and matching accents. The enhancement of her magic does not aid in her understanding of a foreign words definition without it being explained to her. However, the repetitions necessary for a word + definition to be taught and practiced in order to be memorized is reduced to 1, making such a technique invaluable for subject infiltration. - Range: N/a - Backlash: N/a
Charisma is a learned thing in Juliette's case. Though she is innately shy, self-doubting, and otherwise unsuited for conversation she pushes herself to approach it head-on. This self imposed transformation was brought about by her desire to break away from the person she was under the stringent rule of her mother. Her distaste for the quiet little girl she was borders on hatred, hatred that she is prone to venting on those with similar traits.
Given Juliette's predilection for secrets there are few people indeed who would know her ease of social grace is a facade. To the outside observer she is a queen of courtesans; elegant, refined, desirable. Her allure is a much abused thing. One that procures her way in all manners. Though Juliette shirks the responsibility of a leader - and in the case of the Shahrazad, gladly leaves the squabbles over inner hierarchy to the other girls - she seems to expect that others differ to her at her discretion. Still..
The past has made Juliette painfully aware that the one who pursues nothing surely achieves nothing -- particularly in the way of companionship. Her anxiety is reserved mostly for peoples and things that tug her emotional heartstrings. She finds great difficulty in conveying her emotions, and once misunderstood her tone is sure to turn biting! With a tongue as adept as any rapier blade it is venom that comes most natural to her. It would be fair to say that her affection can be measured by the offense she heaps upon you. Should she become thoroughly attached or enamored with a person much blushing and stammering is likely to occur.
Fears/Phobias: The thought of being always alone is one that stills her heart, though she swallows it back the best she's able. It would seem that not all things can be out grown. She is ever unable to come to terms with the decisions that she herself has made.. the people she has pushed away.. and what that leaves left for her.
Prejudice:
Dirty Secrets:
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History
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Is it ever wrong to dream? Ambition can lead a dark road, but at what point does the dreamer stray toward such violent ends? Are we predisposed to disaster? Calamity? For what destiny cannot be faulted is it, then, weighted to mine own soul? The past is a burden that never rests. Things done and said do not leave you, ever! You cannot recall a sin once done! I have been selfish. I have been greedy, wanton, and shameful in my hedonism. I am a prodigal soul. If you believe nothing else, trust in me when I say... I never meant for it to happen.
I never meant for it to happen.... -
The Early Life
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I grew up quietly. My mother was a domineering woman set in her ways and the ways of our ancestors. For generations we of the name have been the proprietors of a ryokan in Hosenka town. Though the surrounding area embracing the coming of new ages with open arms, my mother kept the blinds tightly cinched. I was not to see the garish common practices, and if I should by chance bear witness to their carryings on, I was never to speak of the shame. We were of a different breed, of better blood; we did not consort with those who betray their heritage so scantily!
Despite our orderly ways - or perhaps, because of them - my family consisted of only two. She and I were all I'd ever known. With no male relations to succeed, it was understood that I would inherit. I will never forget the day I become wisend enough to understand my undertaking ; As a girl of 8 I lifted my chin if only a fraction higher, in pride. It seemed a noble thing to preserve this place of wood and stone, of memories, of ancestors. Their history would become my history. In that, I found a sort of peace. I would later learn that 'contentment' is what I had come to know, and what a fleeting thing it is.
It was naivety that kept me complacent. For me, there existed no other world beyond the stretch of my daily life. My mother kept this - my waking moments - well in hand. For, though our onsen was not the most frequented it was the most refined. One day soon it would fall upon my shoulders to maintain the pride of our practice, and for this my mother had many lessons.
By her will my body became an instrument of grace; my steps became soft, slight and soundless; my limbs moved only with poise, with purpose, and my posture never slouched. If she was pleased by my efforts I never knew it. There was always still more to learn. Though it would be my place to order a kitchen, mother felt strongly that I must first know my own way around one. Cooking, cleaning, folding, washing, scrubbing, scrubbing, and scrubbing. It was this way with all domestic things.
Mother would demand of me absolute and unrestrained effort, vigor, enthusiasm! I was to work as hard - and as well - as any who toiled in our employment, but I was to do so with elegance. She chided me for the careless weathering of my hands with a verbal dressing-down for every blister, and I felt very much that each was her own doing.
Mothers work was in the flowers and fields of our acreage. Though some might find it strange that a lady such as she employed herself in the works of a grounds keeper, mother trusted no one with her flowers. She knew the name of every growing thing I could point in challenge, and with the herbs she tended with her own two hands she repaired the both of mine.
I marveled, for an impressionable child such I thought this, for sure!, must be magic. She cast aside such words with venom, with a chastisement so biting I knew well to hold my tongue. I wasn't to speak of magic. But magic soon spoke of me.
A Disappointment
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There came a man to our keep in the beginnings of my 15th spring. He was well dressed, well spoken, and well received. He seemed to know my mother better than she let on, but I never dared to ask that either speak of it to me. It was evident enough in her assent to let me near.
Though I was a young woman in age, I had yet to outgrow my childish disposition. I followed him about every inch of our estate (so long as it was proper for me to go), every bit the puppy. He stayed for three weeks time, and for every day it seemed he had something wondrous, wondrous and new, to captivate me with.
Lights, like fairies, were called to his touch! He would make such radiance dance for me in a display more lovely than all the flowers my mother had ever grown. And yet, they, like her flowers, were a tentative thing not meant to be touched. I grew brave enough once to catch an errant spark betwixt my hands, and for that I was most terribly surprised!
His light bit at my flesh with tongues of flame that singed and sparked; how awful, how terribly awful! As the tears came to my eyes he remained transfixed and puzzled. Magic, he called it, and his had quite disliked my own. My mother disliked us both, just then. I was sent away to my room as a naughty child, though I cannot recall ever being so, while mother and he fought with voices to shake the walls. The morrow would bring a new sun over the horizon. Things were changing.
I was subjected to the most peculiar of designs; these games, these tests as they were, had no meaning or solvable end. No matter the face that inquired, scrutinized, and encouraged me; no matter how, nor when, nor where, or with what; I ended, to all, a curious disappointment. Though they seemed to agree there was magic in me it was of no apparent use. I was a flawed design, a dud. And just like that all the lovely strange things dawn had brought packed up and disappeared. Life became the same.
My mother became more at ease with the silence disturbed by only us two, her and I. I was relieved she no longer seemed angry with me. My lessons resumed in a flourish. Though I was competent (by her terms) at any number of wifely pursuits already, I was not to be a scullery maid, and so my mother dreamed it time I learned the crafts of a lady.
A First Love
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At 15 I was finally allowed beyond the wisened sakura that bordered our estate, I would attend a school of dance!
Though it was a short distance between the two places, and mother herself was my escort, I had never before stepped out into the world. Every new sight, new sound, new smell; I savored them all. I felt awakened. Born at last.
The school itself was traditional in form and style. There was no excess spared on aesthetic ornamentation, nor were we girls allowed to accessorize the uniform attire we were given. Here there would be no nonsense, and for me, unsettled already by the daunting presence of girls my own age, it was a comfort. We were allotted no time for anything other than our practice, and rarely did a voice other than the Mistress sound in that hall. When class was dismissed there lingered a few stolen moments before mother arrived that I might have made a friend, but no one approached me, and I hadn't the courage to approach them.
I might have been lonely, but I cannot recall being unhappy. Dance came easy to me as an art. My movement was rhythmical, and in sync with instruction; I would not fail at this. I would not be a disappointment. I learned much from the dance Mistress, and from the girls around me as well. Each had, in some way, a grace that was unique unto them. I admired them all though I never learned their names.
By the time I was 18 I was accomplished enough that my continued tutelage was not necessary, but mother knew my joy, and she allowed me to remain. I cannot recall when I first noticed she was aging, perhaps I did not notice at all until the days became shorter. She had less energy. Less time to hold firm every minute of my hours. I began to walk myself home. She had taught me to be a dutiful child who did not stray or dawdle, but I drank in every sight to behold along that stretch of rode. It was short, and out of the way, with few passers-by save myself, which made my wonder all the more mounting.
Coming of Age
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A circus. A circus was coming to town. I had heard their whispers as the girls gathered in comfortable groups. I was well educated, well versed and read, and still I could think of nothing in likeness to this 'circus' they shared. It came upon me in glorious merriment along the narrow way. In pomp and flair like lightning - so bold, so dashing!- they made the rode their own in passing. Flyers, like little paper dreams, littered the ground in their wake. I gathered one up and held it close to my chest. It was my secret hope that warmed as I ran the rest of the length home. Disappointment waited for me there.
No matter how I begged and pleaded, mother was immovable. I wasn't to go. No matter how I burned, no matter how I ached and wanted as I have never wanted anything! -- I would not disobey her. She knew that, and so when the matter was dropped she was not unsettled. She had news of her own to give.
Though the surrounding area embracing the coming of new ages with open arms, my mother kept the blinds tightly cinched. I was not to see the garish common practices
I would inherit.
...to preserve this place of wood and stone, of memories, of ancestors. Their history would become my history.
In that, I found no peace. I laid awake in the still and shadow of my room with the taste of something strange, strange and new, on my tongue. I had no want for these walls, for the confines of this hall, for the quiet empty aching of never knowing! never doing! never being anything else. Discontent. I had identified it at last. These wild emotions gave wings to my feet, and I was gone from that house like a thief in the night. I had always meant to return. I never meant for it to happen...
A circus! what a thing it was. Peoples in all colors and shades dared defy gravity itself from heights that made me anxious in their stead. Such bravery, such cunning, such mastery! There was grace in this, too, and beauty. Was I wrong to marvel? Were they so different from the ladies with their fans and dancing? I thought not. acrobatics; dexterity, poise, elegance -- it all melded into the same glorious wonder. I felt like I was soaring with them. The minutes I'd meant to stay became hours. The nimble performers retired and fresh faces took the dais. They called lights to their touch, fire, ice, and all manner of forces. Magic. I hadn't known I'd ached for it so. I was spellbound
Long after the performance had reached its head, after the troupe had declared its end, after the other peoples had taken their leave, I remained. Utterly transfixed. I might have wept, but all I can remember is the stretch of my smile. I wore it as I stole away, back to that place I was never meant to leave. If I had entered through the door as I ought I would have known straight away what things I had set in motion. I did not. I climbed through the window of my room like a proper villain to sleep dreams of magic, and all the things I'd dared want for myself.
The End of The Beginning
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Morning came late. I felt refreshed, revived, rested as I'd never been. When the sun streaming through the window I'd left open wide as my own body lit upon my pillow I came awake, to silence. There was no movement, no life to the estate, and I had never once woke before my mother. I padded from room to room in the indecency of the clothes I'd worn the night before to find each vacant. The staff were off for the day, and the next, as the ryokan was left to us on weekends.. but where had she gone? The sickening panic I felt was twice as great as any joy I'd ever known.
I came upon the common room in a flurry, the last room, my last hope.. and when realization sunk in my eyes fell upon the crack of the ajar-ed door. I've never known another cause to wear that face I dawned. My brows furrowed over wide eyes and tight lips. My face was bloodless, I could feel the tension in my very bones. I ran. Faster than I had known I was able, my legs carried me down that winding rode I'd often scuffed with shoes that were now absent. The gravel bit into the soles of my feet but it did not slow me. I knew she had come this way. I could feel it as clearly as if she had taken my hand.
She was there. Laying as if at rest in the dust, in the earth. She held a crumple of paper to her chest, like a secret, like a hope, and I knew why she had come.
I slept in the garden, the day I wept so many tears I hoped I might pass-on myself. I couldn't face the memories that waited in the wood and stone of that house. I need only linger a day, besides. Her farewell was a thing arranged with so much ease I felt anger. How is it that a life can be gone, discarded, dismissed, within a day? How is it that only I should bear witness to her goodbye..? My family consisted of only two, she and I. I knew at last what it meant to be alone. What she had feared. What I had so foolishly sought out.
Grief is a heavy burden, and so I packed light. I took nothing from that house save for the jewels of our savings. I paid the staff a severance wage, and left the land of my name in the hands of a trade guild. I made clear my interest in selling out. I wanted it to be quick, impersonal. I had never thought of my home as a figure, a number of zeroes. If they had prompted for an asking price, I wouldn't have had one to give. How does one convert sentimentality into jewels? How does one live in a tomb? I could no more stay as I could properly leave. I instructed that the first offer made should be accepted.
Discovery of Self
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I drifted for a while, between places and states of being. It took time for things to catch up to me, and perhaps they never would if I'd kept going. I settled into Clover town for a stay that had been my longest yet. A week turned into a month, and when a month stretched longer than my funds the proprietor and I settled into an arrangement with so much ease I should have been grateful. I cooked, cleaned, washed, toiled, and scrubbed, scrubbed, scrubbed. I worked with a punishing diligence that should have stripped the delicate skin from my bones, but I could not undo what she had made of me. I was refined. I was accomplished. I was unchanged.
Eventually I relaxed enough that I was trusted to wait tables, and directly interact with patrons. Despite the length of time I spent, and the numerous acquaintances made, I established no ties. I wasn't ready to make friends, I wasn't ready to live without her. The day came when strangers wandered into town. Mages, guild masters. Such was common talk enough in the inn that I understood the meaning, but my curiosity was not diminished. Magic. I have been forever called by magic.