PERSONA SHEET ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Player Information ------------------ **Name (or alias): Amber Michelle **Contact E-mail Address: myaru@etherealvoid.net **Mailing List E-mail Address: myaru@etherealvoid.net Age: 22 Gender: female Instant Messaging (AIM, ICQ, etc): MyaruYukari (AIM) Why do you want to join?: Character Quick Summary ----------------------- **Name: Genevieve **Age: unknown **Gender: female **Occupation: Lich, parasite, seductress **Appearance: Genevieve is always swathed in a deep black cloak, like a funeral shroud; only a glimpse of her pale face and crimson eyes can be seen, though her equally vibrant crimson hair usually manages to escape the confines of her hood to curl over her shoulders. Beneath her cloak - for those lucky (or unlucky) enough to be that close - she wears a simple yet elegant black evening dress, slit along the side to show her legs and gathered around her throat without sleeves, to reveal her pale shoulders. It is all accented with gold black - small black shoes, golden belt and necklace and circlet. Crimson gloves, stretched over the back of her hand and held with gold rings, leave her palms and fingers bare but cover her arm in velvet softness, pulled up a few inches past her elbows. Although her appearance is beautiful, and as seductive as she meant it to be, it is difficult for her to overcome the bone-chilling cold and deathly complextion of the undead - she cannot be mistaken for anything but a demon without great effort. **Personality: Angry and resentful, always made worse by her underlying fear. Arrogant, self-righteous, vindictive. Inquisitive and knowledgable. Selfish. Over-confident. Character Information --------------------- -Name: Genevieve -Age: unknown -Gender: female -Occupation(s): Lich, parasite, seductress -General Description: Genevieve's manner is soft, languid, and inviting. Her current vessel is too tall to be delicate, but her slender, supple limbs, the ever-so-slight sway to her walk, and the sultry tone of her voice more than makes up for that first intimidating impression. She carries herself like a queen, viewing the world from an upturned face and narrowed eyes, softening up only whn she sees some sort of gain in associating with the lowly masses. But most of the time, this is unecessary; as of late Genevieve has appeared only through the summons of humans, and she materializes in all her glory: cloaked, hooded, and with her carefully crafted staff in hand, ready to destroy rather than seduce. In this role, as in many others, she is infinitely effective. -Personality: First and foremost, Genevive is filled to the brim with anger. She resents everything (even herself), and curses the very fabric of creation. There is no room for love in her heart, although she is capable of such positive emotions as enjoyment, elation, and even amusement. Her inquisitive mind led her down this path of ruin, but her arrogance is more than enough to keep her going, despite the despair that is constantly trying to creep into her meditations. She is beyond lonely, firmly in denial; she dreads the eventual day when she might fail her benefactor somehow and be taken from Midgard into Niflheim where she is quite aware she belongs. Despite her failures in the past, she has a strong faith in her own knowledge, and takes her self-confidence a bit too far somethimes, something that got her in trouble when she finally confronted the gods. She does everything for herself, with no regard for anyone else who might be harmed by her actions. -Background and History: Genevieve is a dangerous rarity - an elf gone wrong. Her birth graced the Forest of Spirits so far back in the mists of time it is referred to by season and era, rather than year and month, which are considered modern inventions to her generation. Her kind - specifically, her caste - were the premiers of the true arts of the gods, makers of artifacts and the builders of many a structure in Asgard, when beings other than gods were allowed there once upon a time. The World Tree was a common sight in her childhood, and Bifrost merely another thing to play around. Such were the lives of elves. She grew up with no concept of things such as time, pain, pleasure, or other human emotions; children born to create were not allowed to be swayed by base desire, when their task was to serve the gods. Genevieve lived and breathed her art, watching her family when she was too young to work, and later learning the trade with her own hands. It was a normal life, fulfilling for most... but not for her. How was she created? Why was she dedicating her life to creating trinkets for gods that did not care for her in any way? Why was she simply one of many? These questions plagued her mind during the long hours of work, silent thoughts that she never dared to share with the rest of her race. She grew to hate them, and believed them to be dolls, puppets without any life of their own, and hated herself all the more because she knew she was one of them. All elves looked identical, even to her eyes; she resembled the rest. But why? The World Tree was a tempting propect, as these questions went through her mind. Yggdrasil was the source of wisdom, and to the untrained, wisdom is often misinterpreted as what one might /know/ rather than what one might understand. Genevieve was no different. Her questioning became a desire to know, if only so she might decide whether or not to remain in the forest and shuffle through her life like an obedient puppet. The potential gain, the possibility of finally having an answer to the question of her life's purpose, far outweighed the potential consequence of punishment. Besides, the gods did not forbid the elves to approach Yggdrasil, right? They were its caretakers! Apparently, that was not the case. She made her way to the Tree without any opposition, but when she placed her hands upon its bark, hoping for infinite knowledge to overtake her, she received a gift that she was not prepared to accept: death. Yggdrasil bestowed knowledge - forerunner of wisdom - upon Genevieve's young, inexperienced mind, but in return it levied its ultimate price, and she was cast away into the forest again, no longer elven, certainly not god, and far from being human. Only the lack of physical being kept her from going mad... luckily for her, the soul has far greater capacity than the body. No one had told her that such a penalty awaited any elf who sought to rise above itself in such a manner. It was the gods' safeguard, their assurance that no 'lesser' being could ever aspire to the heights of their own knowledge. Genevieve knew this now, and she grew to hate them, as she hated everything else in her realm of experience. Trapped in the Forest of Spirits as one of its ghostly denizens, her resentment seethed and turned in on itself for centuries. It was only countless years later, after she had the chance to properly accustom herself to the experiences she had gained in her restless form, that Genevieve began to search for a way out. That in itself took many years, but to a being raised without the presence of time, her patience was adequate for the task. She devised a way to reach the edge of the forest, and from there watched Midgard proper. She was quite enchanted with the world, really, and found humans to be delightfully decadent creatures, capable of far more than any of her own kind that she knew. However, her circumstances again barred her from achieving what she desired, for only the living could leave the forest intact. But one day, as she watched the elves around the great Tree, an idea came to her. Why could she not live again? Elves were vessels for the gods - this much she had always known. But gods were very much like souls, and if they were capable of entering the bodies of her kin to walk the world of Midgard, perhaps she could do the same thing. It wasn't impossible, at least not to her mind. Yet when she found what she considered a worthy body (a useless decision, as all elves are inherently alike) and battled its soul for dominance, she found that once again her knowledge had been inadequate for the task. Her soul, supplemented by the touch of the Tree and her long years of un-death, was far stronger than the elf whom she had chosen. She had developed a true sense of identity with the aid of her hate and anger, and that alone was enough to make her superior to the pliable elven race. Genevieve did indeed manage to overpower her victim and live again. Unfortunately, such a deed was not meant for her kind, regardless of her strength. Whether it was the method of her task - really a form of necromancy - or something the gods possessed and she did not, the body began to die and she could do nothing to stop it. Desperation fueled her actions, from here on. She wanted nothing but to live again and be free of the forest and her listless kin, and this was her only chance to escape. Losing her life again was not an option in her mind. She scoured the forest, left in terrible condition to seek her answers in Midgard when she could not find them in her home, and met only failure. Hate, frustration, anger... it all became the definition of her being as her vessel continued to fail, proving to her that she could not hope to transcend the limits of the gods and that she was still only a lowly soul trying to play puppeteer, rather than accept her punishment. Is this the fate of an inquisitive mind, in the world of the gods? Torture, and then oblivion? Perhaps that was their intention, but as she drew her final breaths and faced the possibility of another eternity as a restless soul, Genevieve spit out an oath against the gods.. and that oath was heard, and acted upon. Hel, at once a presence of beauty and the unbearable ugliness of decay, made a pact with her and bound her soul to the task of battling against the gods in return for eternal life. Eternal life unbound by the Wheel of Time was like a breath of fresh air. She could wander Midgard without fear, and play with the lives of the humans around her like toys. The diversity of humanity amazed her, and her occupation of a human form (always human, for elves were not suitable for the task) induced quite a change in the way she looked at things. Men were her favorite interest - their weakness toward women fascinated and amused her to no end. But she didn't play /all/ the time - most of her effort was spent learning every scrap of magic and otherworldly knowledge that she could find as she attempted to expand her power and surpass her limits. The pursuit of knowledge and strength became her only purpose, and causing strife her hobby. She allowed herself to be summoned by humans, only to turn around and overpower her own so-called masters. Arrogance did not begin to describe her actions. Her pet project, the structure now known as the Celestial Castle, was crafted entirely by magic and the hands of enslaved souls. It floats above the earth, testament to her accumulated power. Her reign was not unchallenged for long. Genevieve often wished for an opportunity to spit in the faces of the gods, and her chance came soon after construction of her castle was finished in the form of a valkyrie named Lenneth. There were few words exchanged between them; Genevive wished only to match her skill against the goddess, and the valkyrie seemed determined to destroy her at any cost. Much to her shock, Genevieve was defeated and suppressed after a violent (but relatively short) contest. Though the valkyrie did not have the energy left within to seal Genevieve, the castle itself was sealed with an intricate puzzle of a spell that even /she/ could not figure out. Trapped once again despite her great power, she set herself to finding a way to escape at any cost. If ever there was something Genevieve could not bear, it was captivity, and she swore revenge against Lenneth for locking her into the nightmarish life of a prisoner. Thus she remains today, though over the thousand years since Silmeria's capture, she has come close to escaping. One never knows when she might finally break free of her prison and inflict her ruinous presence on Midgard once again. -Birthdate: unknown -Height: 6'1" -Weight: 156 ibs. -Eyes (colour and shape): Crimson red and narrow, though anyone with the unearthly luck to survive a close encounter with her will find that glow to only be present when she is summoned or channeling her power; when at rest (or defeated), her irises lose their sheen and return to their original golden brown. -Complexion: Her complexion is the pasty, bleached-white shade of the undead, hinting at her nature to those unaware. It is clear of blemishes and smooth as silk, but permeated with the chill of the grave no matter the living status of her human vessels. -Hair (colour and style): Genevieve's current incarnation was graced with a thick mane of blonde hair, which she has worked into a crimson to echo the glow of her eyes. As silky soft as her skin, it more than accurately represents the emotions boiling beneath the surface of her arrogance: anger and a nearly uncontrollable passion. -Voice: A sultry alto, soft velvet over the underlying strength of steel. -Clothing: A black evening dress covers Genevieve's generous curves, flowing just below her knees and slit along the right side to reveal a pale expanse of thigh. It has no sleeves, instead wrapping snugly around her throat beneath a gold band. Crimson gloves stretch up past her elbows, more like sleeves really - they end at her wrists, covering only the back of her hands, pulled to be wrapped around the base of her second fingers with golden rings. A gold, beaded necklace embraces her neck, and a thick golden belt encircles her waist. A thin circlet holds her hair back, and shiny black high-heeled shoes cover her feet. The ensemble is quite simple and elegant, but it is always swathed by a cloak blacker than the void, and her head is always hooded - it almost goes to waste. -Tools (Weapons, Magic, Armour): The Tailbone Staff, a relic imbued with her power and created from the remains of the elf whose body allowed her to escape the Forest of Spirits - her gift to the being who helped her achive her current power. Legend says its soul has been recaptured and locked within the confines of its inanimate physical vessel. -Abilities/Disabilities: Genevieve can craft anything elegantly and skillfully, from jewelry to castles in the sky. She has a natural eye for beauty (which often leads to rather snobbish decisions in terms of her next body to occupy), and her unnatural ability can turn anything into a masterpiece. She has also studied and absorbed more than her share of the various arts of magic on Midgard - her strength is great enough to challenge even gods, supplemented by centuries upon centuries of practice. Her ability to seduce the male gender, no matter the race, has earned her the title of 'deadly seductress', though it does not in any way detract from her success when she puts effort into her attempts. -Hobbies: Seduction. Men (or rather, their reactions) delight her to no end. She enjoys any opportunity to exert her power over those she considers lesser beings, especially elves. Battling the gods is a delicious experience to her, a test of her power that she revels in. And though she hates creating things for others, she does still find some morbid enjoyment in creating artifacts for her own use. -Birthplace: Forest of Spirits -Mother: unknown -Father: unknown -Siblings: none -Children: none -Mate: n/a -Other relations: the Elvenkin. -Affiliation: Queen Hel, mostly herself. -Current residence: Celestial Castle -Current Life Conflicts: Genevieve is still attempting to break the seal locking her into her palace, passionately opposed to being imprisoned in any fashion. As soon as she is free, Asgard will be her goal - the gods simply need to /die/, as far as she is concerned. === -Hero Traits (optional): -Skills (optional): === -Other notes: Her reaction to Yggdrasil is meant strictly for the elves, and no other being. Regardless of how others react to contact with the World Tree, it is meant to be a unique punishment only for Elvenkin. ===