Et Leur Chanson se Mêle au Clair de Lune

[Clair de Lune]

Name: Et Leur Chanson se Mêle au Clair de Lune
Codename: None
Age: 27
Country of Origin: France
Hometown: None
Birthday: October 16th


Power: Clair is an honest-to-God, actual witch. She knows secrets about the way the world works, passed down to her mother, from her mother, and so on, all the way through history to the very most ancient days of the Celtic people. Her abilities vary extremely based on available resources, but they are generally based around seducing, subverting, or deceiving others, summoning certain spirits from beneath the skin of creation to do her bidding, causing the spilling of fluids, suddenly being places others might not expect her to be, changing forms entirely... the list goes on. It is hard to know what Clair can actually do, because even Clair herself does not at all times know all the secrets that she knows. Generally speaking, though, she must spill some kind of living fluid, or damage some kind of tissue - blood, sweat, tears, cracking bones, cutting apart organs, whatever she can get, so long as it's fresh and not her own - to cast most spells.

Personality: Clair is an extremely difficult person to get a read on; at first glance most people dismiss her as a kind of black-cat person, dark and brooding, but not very far beneath the surface beats a pulse of wild joy and abandon, a barefoot-on-rooftops sense of wonder that does not care about the weather or the conditions or the consequences. Clair is a being of sensation, the more and the more different the better. She does not know what a meme is, and has never owned a phone.

Description: Clair's appearance is simple, mostly, except that to look at her one gets a disturbing idea that they are not looking at the real her, no matter how she looks or what she is doing. She is a dark-haired, fair-skinned woman with dark eyes and strong eyebrows, usually wearing simple clothing, with a predisposition to leather for its sturdiness and common reliability. She prefers natural fabrics, and ideally would wear nothing but linen. She always smells of an intense mix of spices and flavours.

Background: Clair was born in the woods of southern France, at the roots of Pic du Midi de Bigorre in the Pyrenees near Spain. Her birth, as with the rest of her life so far, was a matter of great ceremony, and her first swaddling cloth was her own mother's ritualistically shed skin - not as a mutation, but simply as part of the magic of change and transformation that is inherent to their bloodline. She grew up a feral child, traveling with her coven from South to North to South evading the French authorities, who of course held her mother to be guilty of many, many counts of child abuse for her strange method of bringing up her child.

Despite this, Clair did grow up socially fluent, conversational, and fairly well-educated - after all, how can one study the secret lore of the universe if one can't read, or count, or parse basic metaphysical concepts like alternate universes? She grew up in a large coven of very powerful witches, all of whom were part of the worldwide principle of witchcraft known as the Wildwood Club, or the Cult of the Moth, or to very few the Barber's Circle. Some of them had other specialisations, in other esoteric forms of magic, but every one of them was united by a tendency towards change, mentally as well as physically. It was not unusual, as mentioned, for the witches of the Club to simply shed their skin as they went on.

Clair became fluent in the magic of the Wild Wood, the old magic of the Celts, and along the way as she grew up learned other things about herself. She was more attached to humans, and their desires, than her mother had been, and the lore of human sensation and urge came to her naturally, as did all the social fluencies that many in her coven lacked. Eventually, coming of age (by Coven law) at sixteen, she made the choice to leave the coven physically and walk her own path, peeling off towards human civilisation to learn of the poor souls who did not know what she knew. She drank greedily of new experiences, but her strange way of being got her arrested on many occasions and general anti-mutant sentiment mixed her up in many confrontations. Soon enough she learned how to keep herself very, very secret - something that her grounding in the lore of the Moth predisposed her to do. Nowadays she lives beneath the skin of the city, an infiltrating creature feasting on the blood of society, who takes what she wants and goes where she pleases - and while no one understands her well enough to stop her, it is also true that no one understands her well enough to be with her. Hers is a lonely life.

[Ashlie Minamida]

I'm abusing my administrative powers to wave this one through and you can't stop me!

(We haven't actually done a regular approval in forever anyway)