[hider=Elenei 'Mel' Kiều][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/xTSjRIv.jpg[/img][/center] [center][i]"May God save the Prince."[/i][/center] [color=goldenrod][sub][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sbMGIx1WQ5I]Theme no. 0[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3uyUUi8c6E]Theme no. 0.5[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idipMrfAZHk]Theme no. 1[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVCCe2tuL20]Theme no. 2[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbW-S2TYWek]Theme no. 3[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw6BoC5qEcw]Theme no. 4[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvPGVnj_ma8]Theme no. 5[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HC0fw3iHsVU]Theme no. 6[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECxBHhMc7oI]Theme no. 7[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUd0dFhS1eI]Theme no. 8[/url]|[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmJwraC4p5A]Theme no. 8.5[/url][/center][/sub][/color] [center][hider=Portrait][img]http://i.imgur.com/w3s7KJh.jpg?1[/img][/hider][/center][hr][hr][color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]full name_[/i][/color] [b]Elenei Melodiá Kiều[/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][i][color=goldenrod]officially_[/color][/i] [b]Kiều-Morena[sub][i](family name)[/i][/sub] Melodiá[sub][i](middle name(s))[/i][/sub] Elenei[sub][i](given name)[/i][/sub][/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]goes by_[/i][/color] [b]Mel Kiều [i]or[/i] Elenei Kiều[/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]alias(es)_[/i][/color] [hider=current][b][list][*] Mel [sub][i](most common)[/i][/sub] [*] Melly/Elly [sub][i](close friends/family)[/i][/sub] [*] Mel One Wing [*] Mel Crow's Wing [*] Melodiá Morena [*] Morena Joy [*] Pretty Bird [*] Crow's Wing [*]One Winged Crow[/list][/b][/hider] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]title(s)_[/i][/color] [hider=official][b][list][*] Ambassador Kiều's Bodyguard [*] Ambassador Kiều's Envoy [*] Kiều's Monegasque Courier [*] Kiều's Monegasque Student[/list][/b][/hider][hider=other][b][LIST][*] The Monacan[sub][i](common, neutral)[/i][/sub] [*] Ambassador Kiều's Bastard[sub][i](common, slur)[/i][/sub] [*] Ambassador Kiều's Bird[sub][i](neutral)[/i][/sub] [*] The Prince's One Winged Beauty of Monaco[sub][i](rarely known outside of Monaco)[/i][/sub][/LIST][/b][/hider] [hr][hr][color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]age_[/i][/color] [b]19[/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]race_[/i][/color] [b]One Winged Dark Angel/Human Chimera[/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]appearance_[/i][/color][hider=appearance, full][center]~~~[/center] Elenei was always a somber girl, even from a young age, there was always a certain reserved cloudiness behind her eyes, contemplative of something that would upset lesser men to a greater degree than the slight sadness that seemed to be a permanent feature of her face. almond-shaped eyes, piercing, dark and somber all rolled into one, rest between a frame of windswept, but chic and trimmed brunette hair. She keeps her hair clearly longer than a pixie cut or a bob-- but also shorter than a typical shoulder length hair cut-- when it grows much longer than this she tends to braid and pony tail before cutting to this 'in-betweener' length. She keeps her ears hidden-- yet spending a few minutes with her will reveal that she is a woman who listens far more than she ever speaks. Her stony face reveals little beside the mere reality that she is thinking-- although scarcely will her expression ever give away that she is thinking of other people. She isn't a serious woman, but she isn't quick to smile. Her lips a very subtly turned downward, just a tick, it's difficult to tell whether this from a general displeasure, or a simple force of habit. Either way, her lips are pert, caught somewhere in-between being thin and heart-shaped, and they are of a pale salmon shade-- it is very clear that her lips are abnormally pale, furthering a powdered, regal appearance of her face. While not quite gaunt, her cheeks reveal that she has missed more meals than she should-- it can be said that her dimples do contour with the concave nature of her cheeks, and give her a very bright and pleasant smile. It is rare for her to do so, however, as previously mentioned. However, to those who know her intimately, this simply means that her rare smiles are completely genuine. Her nose is perfectly sculpted and roman, and almost serves as a pillar for the frame that is Mel's 'long' face. That is how one would describe it, typically-- her face is long both metaphorically and quite literally, when she was younger she found a common nickname of her's to be horseface-- however as she's come into womanhood it has become something that sets her apart, giving her the air of a tragic noble, sharp facial features within a soft, long frame, and a distant, solemn personality give her a Byronesque Romantic visage. Clearly responsible for this is her multi-cultural background-- her father is a human male of Chinese and Vietnamese ancestry, and her mother is a Spanish-French Monegasque Angel. However, certain large factors of her appearance, such as her androgynous hairstyle, often dyed with streaks of blue, her well maintained eyebrows, her pale complexion, and her single, black wing-- come from more than genetics. Years spent training indoors, hiding in shadows and ducking out at night have changed what should have been a Mediterranean olive-tan skin tone, reminiscent of the early sunset, to a skin tone that is much milkier in color-- it is even, save for the occasional blemish, and very soft to the touch. She lost her left wing in what she believes to be a sparing accident with her father. Her right wing has grown large to compensate for the loss-- she can't fly, but the wing is strong enough to propel her jumps by a little over her own height-- 5'8"-- can move upwards of 100 lbs of weight, can lighten falls and generally act as a third, muffled limb, such as in performing parkour. The wing is 8'6" at it's longest, and is slick like a raven or a crow's. She has the purposefully skinny, well-maintained body of an athlete-- albeit one who focuses on gymnastics and cardio as opposed to becoming larger. Due to this, she can appear to be much frailer than she actually is-- she's fast, and has quite a bit of endurance and flexibility to boot.[center]~~~[/center][/hider][hider=tl;dr][center]~~~[/center] Elenei is a beautiful, androgynous young woman, with somber and piercing eyes and windswept hair the color of polished oak with blue dyed streaks. Her eyes draw one in and her face has regal qualities, she doesn't smile easily. Her lips are particularly pale, and her skin is the color of a milky sunset. Her eyebrows are regularly plucked and her nails are manicured on a weekly basis, but she does not wear makeup. She has a slight, unassuming physical frame with some wiry muscle hidden beneath expensive clothing. Her bust is modest, nearly flat, and her figure could best be described as "thin, fragile hourglass." She shares her father's sensibilities, and wears button down blouses, pastel vests, dark slacks, and ballet shoes. As a chimeric angel, she has one large, dexterous black wing on the right side of her body.[center]~~~[/center][/hider] [hr][hr][color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]social status_[/i][/color] [b]Monaco is a small city-state[/b], but her actions, under her fathers employ, in uncovering a demon plot and preventing the assassination of the Monacan Prince has granted her some European fame, a few chimeras see her as a positive example. [b]Of course, in reality[/b] she had very little to do with uncovering the demon plot. The work and credit belongs to her father and his other employees-- she simply happened to be placed in the right place at the right time by her father, and did what anyone should do when the head of their state is threatened with violence. [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]relations_[/i][/color] [b]Mya Kiều[/b], her aunt, is probably the closest thing she has to a friend in the world. She spends the most time with this woman and tells her all practically anything on her mind. She is also particularly close to her therapist, [b]Dr. Ros Plath[/b]-- visiting her for appointments weekly, and calling her even more often. [b]Anderson Kiều[/b] is her father, and she sees him as little for than an employer to whom she owes her life and loyalty, she doesn't understand him or what he wants, and doesn't make much of an effort to-- she is unaware the details to which he has groomed her life. [b]She is also familiar[/b] to several of the cities bartenders and strippers, and has been making an effort to learn more about Loom's society and culture, and any obligations she may have as a new citizen. [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]general activity_[/i][/color] [b]Mel spends the majority of her time[/b] sleeping and training her fighting abilities, she's versed in several disciplines and can easily burn hours on a daily basis. She doesn't have much of a life outside of spending time with her aunt, and doing what her father asks of her-- be that following a group of people or the assassination of a criminal rival. Her evenings are typically spent standing beside her father, looking as intimidating as a skinny girl with one wing and reputation can, as they discuss things she doesn't understand. Lately, she has taken to frequenting sex clubs, night bars, and regular demon locales in her free time. She has weekly therapy sessions. [hr][hr][color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]abilities_[/i][/color] [b]Angelic "healing" and resistance to disease[/b], the abilities granted to her through her angelic frame and wing, a psycho-spiritual connection with her sword [b]'One Winged Dove.' [/b] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]equipment_[/i][/color] [b]One Winged Dove:[/b] A left-handed, curved, thin, French-styled cutlass in the shape of a long wing. There are black ripples in the steel that look like feather, the sword is otherwise pearl white, and glows with a white aura. Seemingly controlled by Mel herself, this aura can illuminate the dark. [b]Aviator sunglasses:[/b] Basically the only article of clothing she owns that wasn't enchanted by her father with some arbitrary boost to her physicality. [b]Enchanted vests, skinny jeans & slack, and ballet slippers:[/b] Clothes, all in her favored style, all with some colorful enchantment commissioned from her father, meant to provide some protection and give her a boost in combat. [hr][hr][color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]personality_[/i][/color] [color=goldenrod][i]+[/i][/color] [color=slateblue]✿[/color][color=goldenrod][i]history_[/i][/color] [hider=Plath therapy; Patient no. 108-ky4][center]~~~[/center] The room was dim. She wasn’t always as aware as she felt today, but she was fairly certain that this her room, the doctor’s office, was always this dim. She often wondered why her office was kept this dark-- a small, paranoid part of her came to the conclusion that the doctor altered the lighting for each of her patients. That the doctor had somehow observed her subconscious reactions to light levels, and determined she was most relaxed in the dark was absurd. Yet she wanted to believe it. She liked this doctor, she was fairly certain she liked her as well, and she considered the doctor to be fairly skilled in her field. Would it be so silly for such a skilled doctor to make a room darker, for her pale patient and her proclivities toward the dark. The room wasn’t pitch black, of course. The wooden blinds were closed, blocking out the golden brilliance of a sun preparing to set-- what filtered through was a calm golden hue, light worth more money than she would ever see. That was all the illumination the room presently had-- all natural. There was an expensive ceiling fan, three blades, made from the same type of red-dark wood as the blinds over the windows-- she didn’t know the names of trees or what type of wood they made, but it pleased her to think it was cedar. The cedar blinds covered half the office-- because windows made up half of the walls of the corner office-- it was probably one of the nicest rooms in the building, she thought, it had to be. The other half of the walls were bookshelves, with a pitiful door wedged in between-- with tomes familiar and unfamiliar to her. When she had first come in, she was completely silent, and she made a game of looking for books she recognized. She had been coming here for weeks now, and had long quit that game, of course... but she could still find Brave New World instinctually. Next to the desk, also probably cedar, she thought-- Brave New World was placed lovingly next to the desk, within arm's reach of the woman as she imagined her doctor pouring over the audio and written notes of her patients, thinking of ways to help them. It was in between a college textbook on psychology and something by Elie Wiesel. Tragedy and the human condition, all fused in such a way that one couldn’t tell where the fiction ended. She supposed there was something deeply poetic about that. The rest of the office had silver modern art fixtures scattered about in a way that one might call ‘feng shui’, they were all small sculptures, contrasting the golden carpet. She liked it-- of course, knowing the modern state of psychology, there was probably some radio technology or magic in those sculptures that emitted calming waves. No doubt, human doctors tending to mentally unstable chimeras, demons, and angels needed to take precautions. She closed her eyes, running her fingers along the soft brown plush of the couch. The empty chair across from her was a little frustrating? Where was she? The woman, barely a woman, of 10 and 9 years, closed her eyes. Footsteps. Her ears perked as she heard the familiar clop of the doctor’s loafers. Her eyes were open and looking for the face of her therapist, in anticipation of where it would be, as the door was opened by the woman, clearly in a rush to get to the room. “Elenei?” The doctor-- her therapist, Dr. Plath said, out of breath, “I’m so sorry I was late-- usually those quarterly reviews only last half an hour or so!” “That’s okay.” Mel tried, and failed, to give a smile of reassurance to the woman, “It wasn’t too long,” Dr. Plath, for her part, reciprocated with a large smile of her own. Mel took a moment to observe the woman, occupied with hanging up her coat and fishing the recorder from it’s oversized pockets. Dr. Plath couldn’t have been a day over 50-- but either bad genetics, stress, or perhaps both, had aged her prematurely. She looked like the kindliest grandmother a little girl could wish for-- and while it was true, she was kind, one could see that kindness etched into the laugh lines of her face, but yet she spoke with youth. At heart Dr. Plath was a young woman, and still dressed in exposing blouses and pencil skirts to show it. “Oh, you don’t have to lie to spare my feelings, Elenei!” She said, practically sprinting from her desk with her notepad to her seat, across the couch. “We’ll just extend your session 30 minutes to make up for it, okay?” “Mel.” “I’m sorry?” Sitting now, the older woman crossed her legs, before realizing her mistake, in using a full name. “Oh, of course! I’m sorry Mel, it’s been a bit of a day.” Mel gave a slight nod to the doctor, clasping her hands together in her lap. She didn’t break eye contact-- the good doctor’s eyes were a beautiful turquoise, hidden behind thick, black glasses and accented with crow’s feet-- she twitched before Mel blinked. She broke the silence, “Something to with your meeting?” Dr. Plath nodded, “Yeah…” Her usually bright voice wavered a little, “Apparently I’m supposed to be giving,” She mockingly altered her voice and made air quotations with her fingers, “more detailed reports--pffft,” She blew a raspberry, “What a load! How would I even do that without breaking privilege!?” “I could talk to them?” Mel chimed back, with mild emotion, “Maybe a patient testimony could get them off your back?” She tilted her head. “No…” Dr. Plath adjusted her glasses, Mel stretched out her wing, apparently remedying a cramp, the resulting gust knocked them a bit off their center. She understood there to be a subtext beneath the girl’s words-- one she might not have even been aware of herself-- when she said [i]‘talk’[/i] she meant [i]‘intimidate’[/i]. It was a problem resulting from compromised empathy that the doctor had been trying to get her patient to acknowledge. She wasn’t like her father, Elenei was a good person at heart-- but Dr. Plath was unsure the girl could even think of things as ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ So, the healing process was taking some time! “No,” Dr. Plath repeated. “I think we’ve talked enough about me, anyway! We’re here for you…” She slipped through some pages in her yellow note pad, stopping once a certain date caught her eye. “Now…” she began, “Our last few sessions have mostly been freeform conversation… but for today, I’d like to try something a little different, if that’s okay?” She waited for the tilted nod before continuing, “Today, I want to talk about you-- who Mel Kiều really is. Who you see yourself as, and as much of your past as you’re comfortable telling me. I can talk you through all of this, and remember, it doesn’t all have to come out today, and we can stop if you feel you need to, it’s okay. We can go at your own pace… but, does this sound like something you’d like to try?” Mel leaned back against the plush couch, chewing on what that would all entail for a moment, and then she spoke, as if she hadn’t thought about it at all, “Sure thing, Doctor. How do we start?” She smiled with glee at this, “Just tell me about yourself, Mel! That’s the best part… let’s start with your childhood, as far back as you can remember.” “Well,” Mel shifted in her seat, “I don’t remember much growing up…” “Thanks okay!” Dr. Plath smiled encouragingly, Mel couldn’t help but find it slightly unnerving. She closed her eyes and sighed, “Okay.” Her eyes opened, “I don’t remember my mother-- my Father said she wasn’t anything more than a one night stand, but… I don’t know.” The doctor slashed something on her notepad, “What don’t you know?” “Well, Mya’s told me a little about her, and, I don’t know,” Mel’s hands moved uncomfortable, twiddling her thumbs, “I don’t think she was a hooker or anything, it sounded like she was a smart lady, I think my father may have really fancied her.” “And do you think that has something to do with how he treats you?” “Absolutely not.” Mel shot back, “He might not love me, but I know him well enough to know that hating me would be a waste. LIke… He doesn’t…” “He doesn’t…?” The doctor egged her on. “He doesn’t… see [i]anyone[/i] as you or I see them, I think, you know? But he likes usefulness, and I know I’m useful to him. So I know he likes me, he’s just kind of a cold asshole about everything.” “Language.” Mel’s eyes shot downward, “Right… Sorry, doctor.” “You’re fine! Just keep a closer watch on it later, okay?” Dr. Plath knew of Elenei’s father. He was practically famous-- although not for the reason’s his daughter were. [s]Infamy[/s] was a better word, in Loom, at least. A cunning, shrewd politician with a reputation for being ruthless on crime-- Ambassador to several European city-states-- a Loom native with a foreign daughter, at least, as foreign as Monaco was to Loom. “So, back to you! You never knew your mother?” “No, she died when I was very young.” Mel sighed, “My father had a man take care of me for much of my younger life.” “Oh?” “My [i]giáo sư[/i],” she corrected herself. “I’m sorry…” Dr. Plath paused, “Giáo sư?” “He was…” Mel took a second, searching her thoughts for the right words in English, “My teacher, my mentor. My master of the arts.” “Master…” The doctor repeated the word to herself slowly, before asking her follow up question, “So you lived with the man who home-schooled you…?” “Yes. We lived on a houseboat, he taught me what I needed to know about the world, and…,” The slight young woman blushed lightly, “I’m ashamed to say this, but he taught me more ways to fight than I can remember.” Dr. Plath had to remind herself how important combat was to Elenei-- from what she’d gathered from their earlier conversations, her father had practically had her raised as a kind of urban guerilla. She simply nodded, “Would you say he, your giáo sư, was he like a parental figure to you?” Mel’s eyes clouded at this, “No.” She’d struck a nerve, “I’m sorry, Mel.” Immediately backtracking, she tried to change the focus, “Were they pleasant memories, at least?” “I think so…” the clouds left her eyes, “I loved living on the sea, even if we never sailed anywhere...” “That’s good!” Dr. Plath clasped her hands together, “So-- born in Monaco, raised on a houseboat by a mystery martial arts master-- your life is like a fantasy spy novel!” “I guess so…” Mel gave a mirthless chuckle, “Then this happened…” She flexed her wing, extending it fully and having to curve it upward as it came against a wall-- there was a certain beauty to be found in the lopsided image of one winged girl, and her wing, so black it reflected the sunlight like glitter, a golden, stygian ebony. "Your accident...?” Dr. Plath, for her part, had never prodded much about that-- she specialized in angels, she knew wings were a sore subject for many-- she figured she’d let her bring it up, black wings were one thing, but losing one was another matter entirely. Relaxing her wing, Mel shook her head to clear her bangs from her eyes, “Well, I had to grow the wings first, which was the real accident.” Dr. Plath’s eyes went wide, “Wh- wait, I’m sorry, what?” Mel shrugged, “When I was 10, I got sick-- like, it wasn’t something the doctors had ever seen before, my blood had become black... I became blind, my skin burned in sunlight… and the swelling…” “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.” “No, I’m alright.” Mel motioned to where her old wing had been, “Long story short, my giáo sư contaced my father to resolve it. My father knew people, better people than the doctors, and although I’m certain he had been paying for every aspect of my life thus far, I suppose he figured this was the time to truly make his presence known to me. So he did. No hugs, no fuss-- he presented himself, and explained to me what he’d be doing to save me, and our relationship going forward.” “It sounds very cold.” “I guess you could say that…” Mel tilted her head, “But in my eyes, then and now, he was my Knight in shining armour… still, I won’t pretend I don’t miss being human…” “The procedure to cure you made you… an Angel? A kind of Chimera?” Dr. Plath said in disbelief. “I didn’t really understand everything he told me, but basically Angels have a better natural resistance to disease-- his theory was that he could fill my body with the essence of weak Angels over the course of several weeks, they could become a type of composite with my soul, and the process of…” Mel looked toward the ceiling, trying to recall a name, “Temporary something.” “Temporary willing possession.” Dr. Plath shot out. “That! Yeah.” Mel nodded, “I don’t know the hows, but it worked… I lost the black blood, and grew some black wings. I ended up losing my left one in a sparring match a few years later. At the time, I hated it-- I had to learn everything all over again, how to fight with my lighter body, how to fly… I thought I would be happy if they got cut off or something… but…” “The pain never goes away.” Dr. Plath added, in a quiet tone. “Sometimes at night, I can’t sleep because of how loud it feels like my soul is crying out for it.” Mel seemed to develop bags under her eyes as she spoke of it, “It never goes away-- I don’t ever want to lose the other one, I’m not sure I could handle it.” Plath quickly changed the subject, “Besides! Being an angel helped you save the Prince of Monaco-- even with the one wing, no human could have survived that fall!” Mel shrugged, “I guess, I don’t know… Like I wasn’t…” She looked away, “I was just in the right place at the right time-- I would have tried to save him, wing or not.” She picked up on the hint, “Okay, Melly! One more question, if you’ll indulge me, Mel! This one is more abstract, but for my notes, I’d like to know… What makes you feel alive?” Mel thought on the question for a moment. “Fighting… Sex… Flying… The ocean…” She paused, before a light came to her eyes, and Dr. Plath could swear she saw an upward curve in the young woman’s mouth, “Coffee, as black as my wings and as sweet as candy… somewhere secluded in an empty 24/7 breakfast diner at midnight.” “That’s good.” Dr. Plath gave a small smile at this, “That’s really good Mel, I want you to think of that coffee when the pain rears it’s ugly head in, okay?” Mel nodded. “Okay, now, how about we do some breathing exercises?” [center]~~~[/center][/hider][/hider] [hider=Anderson & Mya Kiều-- WIP][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/GO1LyAB.jpg?1[/img][img]http://i.imgur.com/2AZZ5c2.jpg?1[/img][/center] [i][b]Full name(s):[/b][/i] Anderson S. Kiều & Mya Kiều [i][b]Goes by:[/b][/i] S. & Mya Kiều [i][b]Alias(es):[/b][/i] [b][i]Official Titles:[/i][/b] [i][b]Other Titles:[/b][/i] [i][b]Age:[/b][/i] [i]appeared[/i] early 30's, [i]actual[/i] 41 [i][b]Race:[/b][/i] Human (to common knowledge) Appearance: Social Status: Relations: General Activity: Abilities: Equipment: Personality: Will show IC Biography:[/hider]