There is something to be said for those who can live without letting the world scar them. Those who can remember that happiness will eventually come, that light will always remain at the end of the tunnel no matter how dark it gets. At one time, she had been one of those people. There was a smile to be worn on every occasion, a way to pull joy from the silver linings of every storm cloud that had the audacity to rain on her parade. So what changed?
The reckoning changed. The supernatural should have stayed a secret, because even humans were never quite powerless, despite the common misconception that they were harmless. They were violent, and when they were scared..well, they were malicious. Fear motivated some of the most heinous crimes no matter what the species, and Simone had lived every one of them.
Sheâd seen in, the beginning. The part where people started to go missing, when her neighbors all of a sudden seemed to move overnight, and then when her father had declared they were moving. Their clan, their people had lived there for longer than anyone else, and just like that, they could and they would give it all up. They hadnât moved soon enough though, and the night before, they were found.
Nothing about it was subtle, there were no more courtesy disappearances, no more missing, just slaughter. Thereâs something about seeing the dead for the first time that sticks with you, something about watching your mother bleed out from between your own fingers, covered in whatever was left of her life force, while you desperately tried to help. That was what did it, thatâs what changed her. The world finally won, the world finally found a way to make her ugly, to force her to be cold.
It was after that she had learned to fight, that her father had taught her, the two of them left as the only survivors of it all. The ability to protect herself wasnât enough though, that desperation from before had birthed a need, a demand for power that would promise sheâd never be so helpless again. Thatâs what forced her hand, what taught her to collect the abilities of others, that made her a little bit more of a monster each time.
It was on one of these trips, one of these self serving missions that her father was finally found again. This time theyâd taken him, promising to drain him dry from nothing more than the magic in his veins, and they did. They killed him like a hunter would an animal, and then used him for parts, as if he didnât mean anything to anyone at all. Itâs them, all her family, that are forever commemorated over her heart. Each time it beats, itâs like touching them one last time, like what it could have been to say goodbye.
It was after his death, after the dust had settled over the final burial, that she decided it was time to join the war. It had claimed everything sheâd ever loved, it was only right, fitting almost that it claim her too. After all, sheâd never be as soft and delicate as she once was, because that kind of vulnerability bred a weakness she could no longer afford. The fight was the violence that her bones now craved, that she needed to quell that urge to spread her own pain far and wide. Revenge was an addiction for which there was no cure, but it made no difference.
She wanted to take it, and she did. For years they would celebrate both victory and the losses that paved the way, until that lucky streak finally ran out. Their crimes forced them into the ugliness of the underground, a sort of forced prostitution to pay off the debt they owed, to pay back some semblance of the lives theyâd taken. It was all checks and balances, a theory she could understand - but never respect.
Even the brothel taught her things, and even the brothel brought her new power. After all, it wasnât just the humans that frequented it, and everyone wanted to touch, to see, to feel the fight under her skin, or the sting of her teeth, most though? Most wanted to know what it was like to be owned, and she, she would have gladly taught them, one by one, second by second, until they couldnât remember anything, wouldnât remember anything but her.
A decade, maybe two, dragged by until her penance was considered paid. It had been enough, just enough to teach her one thing - that she wanted, she needed to stop running. There was some tall tale of safety, whispered in the dark, and it had a name: Folie a deux. While Simone had learned long before that safety, complete safety was just a childrenâs lullaby, she knew that something, was better than nothing, and so off she went.
Pride wouldnât let her share her memories though, wouldnât let her label herself as some sort of sorry little rescue. Rescue, it implied sheâd needed saving and sheâd been far beyond that for centuries now. So, sheâd played the game, paid, found the right people to make her into a sponsor with a half hearted promise of what she could, or what she would do, for the town.
After all, if sheâd been so good at finding power for herself, she certainly could do the same for this place. A scout, but always just this side of self serving. She was dangerous, but dangerous in the way that fire could destroy an entire existence, but we still craved its warmth. Whatever the reasoning the council had, this was it. This was where, who, and what she was now.
The problem was getting close enough to find that out, and considering sheâd never bothered to share her memories, who really knew what exactly that was? Some days, she certainly didnât.
She has a black and grey tattoo of her familyâs crest about her heart on her chest, it has the initials of her two deceased siblings, her mother, and her father.
Simone speaks with a distinctly French accent, despite the fact that her mother was Irish. The accent is something sheâd learned from her father before he passed, and while she was growing up. While the years have allowed her to learn to hide it, she often doesnât bother, and instead uses to pay homage to her father.
Simoneâs power includes the ability to leech powers from other beings (fae, or otherwise), or mimic powers sheâs seen, experienced, or heard about in the past. Sheâs a particularly gifted fae, and before her family passed, they were held in a very high regard because of this.
There is a scar that runs the length of her left side from the battle her army had lost, the one that ended in them all being sent to the brothel. While itâs been something many have asked about, sheâs never told the story, not even to those that have offered money and other goods in exchange for this.
Simone is well known in the town as someone to go to if you want to check up on someone in the outside world, or if you want them found and brought into town. Granted, this is usually a service the council with provide, but chances are, if you ask her - you have an increased level of effort and skill going into it, that, and sheâs definitely willing to take an offering or bribe for it.
Whatâs hers is hers, this rule applies to people, places, and things.
There is another scar at the base of her neck from where a client threatened to slit her throat if she wouldnât agree to marry him, which, well...letâs just say only one of them is still breathing.
She wears her mothers wedding ring, but wonât explain the significance beyond the fact that she, herself, is not married. She often turns it out of nervous habit, or the need to keep her hands busy.
Someone who taught in the war either alongside her, or someone on the opposing side if youâre feeling real nice and nasty. Hereâs a little more breakdown on what Iâm seeing for either one:
Same side: This would be a particularly close connection, perhaps even a romantic one (but platonic is fine too). They were essentially her second in command, and one of the only people who knew why she joined the war to begin with. Their intimacy doesnât stop there, itâs written in all the little things the two of them do together, whether it be the way she looks at them just a touch softer sometimes, or the way that only she seems to know how to talk them off the edge. Separate, they were always missing something, but together, they were finally whole. After they lost the battle, the two were separated and now will finally find one another in folie.
Opposing sides: This could be a good love to hate kinsnof opportunity. They two of them were in talks to negotiate, for their side to surrender or even team up with Simoneâs army, but it fell through for one reason or another. Whatever that may be, it ends up being the same reason they lost the battle that landed her in the brothel. Again, they can be meeting up in folie, or she can be sent out to get them, unknowing of exactly who they were until she gets there.
Someone from the brothel, be it another warrior that was sent there with her, or clients. Personally, I think the client angle would be very interesting to explore, especially if we throw some drama or feelings in there - considering she had a strict no getting involved with the clients rule - or they could have helped pay off her debt sooner so she was released, honestly, there are a bunch of options here. Iâm also cool with something just simple, plain as a one night thing, whatevs.
Someone that asks her to go find something, or someone for them. Alternatively? Someone who has been scouted and brought to the city by her. They could have had quite a far journey, so they became close on the way, or a few close calls (fights, other scouts, armies, weather related things) together, bonus points if its weather or enemy related and they had to spend long amounts of time âcooped upâ together.
If youâre interested in plotting with my girl here, just like this and I will message you.
