Post by JEHANNE MARIE D'ARC on Sept 23, 2011 2:31:24 GMT -5
Jehanne Marie D’Arc
"The Maid of Lorraine"
[/size]"The Maid of Lorraine"
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Alias: Thistle, or Meems
Other Characters: None
Rewritten City Found Via: RPG-Directory I believe
Contact: PM or Skype, PM for skype info
Comments: I’m sorry I bailed. School ate my muse, but no more! Also, I’m massively revamping Joan, and basing her more off of Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain.
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00I. full nameJehanne Marie D’Arc
0II. canon or originalCanon, Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain.
III. years of age19
0IV. orientation (optional) Heretosexual
00V. social statusLow class
0VI. occupation Panhandler
00I. play byAstrid Berges-Frisbey
0II. body type Short, slender, delicate
III. height 5’2
0IV. eyes color Bright blue
00V. description
The first thing people notice about Jehanne are her eyes. Bright blue, they protrude slightly from her narrow face. Her dark brown almost black hair—the second thing people notice about her—is cut into a simple chin length bob that she trims herself with a pair of sewing scizzors. Living on the streets, its easier to have short hair. Scars from her father's frequent beatings run from her shoulders to her waist.
She dresses very modestly, preferring to wear long sleeved shirts and ankle length skirts. In the summer, she wears long flowing dresses made of light, yet sturdy, material. Her favorite colors are blue, gold, and green, and she tends to incorporate these into her wardrobe—with mixed results. She wears thigh high black lace up boots in the winter, and tennis shoes in the summer. Jehanne also always wears a silver cross pendant on a matching chain.
Short and slender, Jehanne could easily be mistaken for a much younger girl and she is often supposed to be far younger than she is. Her conservative dress only adds to the confusion, as she avoids form fitting clothes, preferring looser material. She’s especially fond of sweatshirts and will often be seen running around New York wearing a simple grey sweatshirt and a long woolen black skirt, with her trusty boots, and only a dark blue cape for a coat, in the middle of winter. She has an ankle length long sleeved white night gown, made of flannel, that she wears in the winter and a cotton nightgown, in the same style but pale blue in color, for the summer.
She avoids looking people in the eye, but she smiles often. Because of the nature of her condition, she often seems to have a blank look on her face, as if listening to things only she can hear. Though she takes pains to keep herself clean, she doesn’t bother with makeup or hairstyling, as she sees these practices as contributing to vanity which is, in Jehanne's mind, a sin.
00I. overall personality First and foremost, Jehanne is a deeply religious Roman Catholic. Her faith matters more to her than anything else. She attends Mass and receives the Sacraments as often as she can, and she prays and goes to Confession at every available opportunity. Her deep religiosity means that she has strict moral standards to which she holds herself—and everyone else. Though timid by nature, Jehanne has a habit of rebuking those around her for their faults. As a result, she often comes across as judgmental and prudish, especially when she’s in the middle of telling someone off for their behavior. Raised to be honest, Jehanne can also seem quite blunt, as she has no sense of tact and will answer questions posed to her as truthfully as she can.
Besides her religion, Jehanne loves and is devoted to her Voices—three disembodied entities who speak to her from out of a bright light. She calls them her saints and says that they are Saint Michael, Saint Margaret and Saint Catherine. Only she can see and hear them. Because of these saints--and her strict upbringing--Jehanne is a very guarded person. She does not trust easily and is slow to open up about her Voices—or her past. She doesn’t want people thinking she’s crazy, after all and she knows no one will understand how wonderful her life with the commune was, or how much she misses her family and friends. Because of this, it can take her a while to warm up to people and she often comes across as timid and awkward. Though she can sometimes be blunt, especially when she's scolding someone, Jehanne usually remains polite and respectful, particularly to persons in authority.
Though her odd personality—suspicious and quiet one minute and cringing and timid the next—make her difficult to get to know, once that’s managed, Jehanne is a very loyal person. She cares deeply for her family and the few friends that she has, and will go to almost any lengths to protect them. Because she doesn’t trust easily, if she is betrayed by someone, she doesn’t usually allow that person to get close to her again. Because of this, she is very, very slow to trust people and is reluctant to speak about her Voices. Generally, she only mentions them if forced. If asked, she’ll answer, but she won’t volunteer the information.
Her Voices have also made her somewhat arrogant, with their promises of a special mission. Because of this, she has overcome a lot of her natural shyness in order to do what her Voices want. Sometimes she can be very demanding and harsh if she feels that she is being kept from doing something her Voices have told her to do. She doesn't take kindly to being ignored and this more than anything else causes her to lose her temper and lash out--though she is mediately contrite afterwards.
0II. strengths Loyal, compassionate, dependable, polite, hard working
III. weaknesses Judgmental, suspicious, arrogant, timid in the presence of authority, opinionated
0IV. goals Jehanne has only two goals in life: serving the Lord to the best of her ability and fulfilling the mission given to her by her Saints. These two desires come before everything else and define much of her personality.
00I. notable family & friendsJacques D’Arc[father], Isabelle D’Arc (nee Romee) [mother] Jaquiem D’Arc [brother], Pierre D’Arc [brother], Jehan D’Arc [brother], Catherine D’Arc[sister] (deceased). Matthieu DuPont [priest]. Minette DuLac [childhood friend], Hauviette Roux [childhood friend]
0II. overall history
Jehanne was born to Jacques and Isabelle on January 6th, 1992. From the start, her childhood was anything but typical. Her parents belonged to an ultra strict religious commune, made up of about 250 people, located in the Canadian wilderness. Members of the commune, who called themselves the Believers, modeled their lifestyle on a mixture of Amish and Catholic teachings. Doctrinally, they were Roman Catholic. Father DuPont served as the group's priest and leader. However they lived like the Amish, eschewing modern conveniences as "worldly" and "evil."
Members of the commune raised sheep, vegetables, and grain, selling the fruits of their labors at roadside stands. Occasionally Father DuPont and some of the leading men, Jehanne's father among them, would take the surplus goods into Quebec, the nearest city, and sell them to the stores. Because the commune was several days' ride by wagon from the city, the men did not go often.
Jehanne’s mother--like the other women Believers--stayed at home, tending to the children and the house. She and the other women would spin wool into cloth from which they made everyone's clothes, using natural dyes to add color. Jehanne's sister Catherine married young and died in childbirth with the baby in spite of the midwife's best efforts.
For the first thirteen years of her life, Jehanne lived quietly, helping her mother about their house, tending to her chores, playing with the other children, and trying to avoid her father's stern discipline in the form of his belt across her bare back. Though schooling was generally discouraged--one of the ways the cult departed from the Amish they emulated--the children were taught simple math--counting, addition and subtraction--and to write their names. Reading was discouraged, so the children learned by memorization or, in the case of addition and subtraction, counting on their fingers.
If she wasn't helping her mother or playing with the other children, Jehanne was inside the commune's church, praying. A devout girl, Jehanne would drop to her knees in reverence each time the bells sounded--a dedication for which her friends often mocked her. As she grew older, her visits to the church became more frequent, so much so that Father DuPont gave her a key so that she could come and go as she pleased.
When she was thirteen, the voices came. With a rush of light and sound, they swept over her, introducing themselves as three saints: Saint Michel, Sainte Marguerite, and Sainte Catherine. They bid to be a good child, go to church, say her prayers. They told her God would help her. She did not tell anyone, not even the priest.
In the months that followed, both the voices and their strange message grew. They told Jehanne that she must leave the commune and go to New York City, but they did not tell her how or why. Sometimes, they would tell her things that were going to happen. Still, she kept silent. Surely her parents would forbid her to go. They would not understand what was happening to her. How could t hey? Jehanne did not understand it herself. All she knew was that the voices were the most wonderful thing to happen to her, and a part of her seemed to go with them when they left her each time.
As the months turned into years, Jehanne became a somber, solitary person. Always faithful, she took to spending every spare minute that she could in the church, even leaving her chores unfinished to go. In the quiet, she could better hear her Voices. Both her parents and the priest tried questioning her, but--except for the neglected chores, which she was always sorry for--there seemed to be no harm in her actions, so at last they relented and let her alone.
At seventeen, she knew she could wait no longer. Stealing away in the middle of the night, Jehanne followed the main road into Quebec. From there, she walked across the border--sneaking into the country with another group--and entered the United States. Some of the group were bound for New York City, and Jehanne followed them. After all, her Voices had told her for four years now that she would find those she sought, those who could help her complete her mission, in New York City. Now she hides, scrounging a living from the streets, and waits. She will find the others. She’s sure of it. Her Voices have told her and they never lie. Ever.
III. sample postJehanne crouched inside the alleyway, trembling. It was so loud. All the people. And those horrible…cars. Her gaze darted to the street and she pressed herself further into the rough bricks as more of the machines thundered by. Cars. She had learned the word, along with several others, after her arrival in New York. A flush rose to her cheeks as she recalled the confused look on the policeman’s face when she’d asked him what they were. Finally, after a lot of questions—most of them she had dodged—he told her. One of the buses rattled by, startling her from her thoughts, and she pressed her hands over her ears, chocking back a whimper. I want to go home.
Jehanne shook her head. But I can’t. Not yet. Not till I do what my Saints have commanded me. She pulled her small cross necklace out from underneath her shirt and stared at it until the sights and sounds of New York City faded away. Green fields surrounded her, wrapping her in their embrace. Overhead, white fluffy clouds floated across a pale blue sky. The sun streamed down, warming her as she knelt among the ripening wheat, listening to the far off church bells. Her saints would come soon. I can feel it. They always come with the bells.
A hand fell on Jehanne’s arm, jerking her back to the city, with its buildings that rose up like trees, its gray streets and dark subway tunnels. With a strangled yelp, Jehanne wrenched her arm away from the man who stood before her. She shrank back into the crumbling old building. “Who are you?” Jehanne fumbled for the knife, pulling it from the sheath at her waist. “Don't touch me,” she snapped, brandishing the blade.
The man smiled and stepped toward her, both hands out. “Easy, sugar. I’m not going to hurt you. Just looking for a little fun.” He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and held it toward her. “You hungry, huh? You want some food? Come on, honey. Come with me and I’ll get you something to eat.” He reached for her arm, springing back as she swung the small blade at him. “Hey now. No need for that. I’m not going to hurt you. Come on now. Be a good girl. I know you gotta be hungry.”
“Leave me alone,” Jehanne shouted, springing to her feet. The man came toward her again and she turned away, scrambling up the fire escape that ran up the side of the building. “Stay away from me!” Her hands shook a she clambered up the steps to the small porch. Kneeling, she watched as down below the man cursed and stuffed his money into his pocket. Rounding on his heel, he walked away. Jehanne got to her feet and tugged on the door.
After a few minutes—and a swift kick—it came open. She stepped into the mostly empty room and pulled the door shut. Tugging on the box of bricks, Jehanne wedged it in front of the door. Now I’m safe. Padding across the cement floor, she flopped down onto the moth-eatn couch and pulled the tattered quilt up around her. Later, after she was sure that the man was gone, she would venture out again.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Back home, her father would be coming in from the fields with the other men and boys, ready for their midday meal. Her mother and the other women and girls would be setting out the food on the enormous tables in the great hall. Mama. Tears burned in Jehanne’s eyes and she pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle a sob. It has to be this way. The Lord wills it. Did they think of her? Did they wonder where she was? Think she was dead? With a muffled cry, Jehanne buried her face in the rough couch cushion, letting the tears come. At last she sank into an uneasy doze, lulled to sleep by dreams of home.
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SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this, modified by Yols with Shakespeare lines.
