OOC: Profile
Player Information
Name: Sam
Timezone: EST
Personal Journal: blue_raven64
Players Contact/AIM/MSN/YAHOO: AIM/ironbirdobserver
Email Address: slgstudentmail(at)yahoo(dot)com
Former/Other Characters in the RP: None, new person here /o/
How did you hear about us?: RPG Directory
Character Information
Name: Flandre Scarlet
Canon Origin/Series: Touhou Project
School Year: First Year
Gender: Female
Age: 11
Out of school living location: Versailles, France
Blood status: Unknown (Vampire)
Personality: Flandre is childish in nature-befitting her appearance as a little girl. Being locked up in isolation seems to have preserved those parts of her mind--and left others to rot and fester. Seemingly minor mental problems have grown and developed into major facets of her personality, aggravated by isolation and lack of social contact to render her largely unstable and of questionable sanity. Her mood swings are many and unpredictable, and it doesn’t take much to change her from “disgustingly cute loli” to “holy shit it’s eating my face”. Tantrums are common-but so is an overwhelming curiosity about things she’s never seen or experienced before, which is pretty much everything. She’s quite likely to “why” you to death. This childish curiosity expresses itself in more ways than simply asking questions of everything-most situations she has never experienced before, and she reacts to them in strange and unpredictable ways. Flandre is poorly adjusted, yes-but not necessarily evil.
When encountered in a docile or curious state, people usually think of her as a rather cheerful, charming-and excessively creepy--little girl. However, seemingly random things will set her off into a violent fit of anger-and the vampire rarely forgets names.
When not staring off into space, Flandre tends to ramble on in monologues a lot and trails off mid-sentence if another thought occurs to her while she’s talking; often foiling attempts at conversation. She readily talks to herself when she is alone-and isn’t too distressed by disembodied voices.
Flandre has a rather spotty recollection of the earliest years of her life, though she remembers some seemingly random things. Of note is the fact that she hasn’t really realized that her food is basically made of people, and has largely forgotten that she needs to feed on humans on a regular basis. She doesn’t really connect the dots between “person” and “delicious cake” the same way most people don’t associate livestock with little Styrofoam trays and shrink-wrap. She is quite aware of what she is, but assumes that she must be special in some way, and thinks the general consensus of hostility towards vampires is entirely unjustified.
Flandre’s vampirism is there-along with her mental instability-if one knows what to look for. Her eyes are still vampire red, her teeth sharp but with few signs of wear-both things she blames on birth defects. She sometimes uses a parasol-but as long as she has her “medicine” around she doesn’t really need it. Something about being easily sunburned. The fact that she can’t stand running water-including rain-well…Flandre just…hates rain. Yes. And garlic stinks.
The fact that she doesn’t appear in silver mirrors, specifically-that, she can’t explain and hopes no one notices. The same with her vampiric strength, accelerated healing factor, and general lack of aging. And of course she’s not insane, what would make you ask that? Nothing to see here.
The smell of blood nevertheless excites her and is about as sweet as sugar to her-she doesn’t understand why everyone else doesn’t think so. Blood itself doesn’t bother her as much as it would a normal human, either; Flandre can be covered in it and perfectly happy with this, as long as she had fed recently.
There is a small, surprisingly mature side to the vampire’s character too; generally emerging during periods of calm lucidity or in the moments immediately preceding a panic attack. She rambles less and her speech becomes more coherent and usually waxes philosophical; her memories become more clarified and easier to understand.
When she excited or happy about something, this changes to a decidedly immature glee, turning her from a surprisingly mature little girl to a properly excitable one again. Ironically, it is most often that stuff gets broken in this state, as the vampire gets carried away quite easily and won’t realize she’s torn someone’s arm off shaking their hand until they start screaming. Flandre is rather like a kitten in this state; full of energy and wanting to play until she suddenly tires and drops in place.
The distinction between “people” and “objects” in her mind is a vague, abstract one she doesn’t fully understand herself. The only people she’s had consistent contact with were her older sister Remilia, occasional visits from the gate guard Meiling, and more recently in her life, the maid Sakuya. These, she identifies as “people” and wouldn’t think of breaking them. Well, at least not on purpose in Meiling’s case. Accidents happened.
Objects, on the other hand, are just objects. If they get broken, no real loss. The vast majority of otherwise sentient beings falls into the “object” class, along with such things as teddy bears. “Important” things, like books, Flandre tries not to break. She’s never learned better, because most would-be tutors tended to end up occupying a surface area rather than a volume in short order.
Flandre is intimidated by anyone with an air of authority similar to her sister’s, particularly women. And any commands yelled-or even relayed in a stern tone--by these personages is sufficient to shock her into a state of quiet obedience. The closer the voice sounds to Remilia’s, the more likely Flandre is to listen unconditionally.
While not otherwise frightened by a great deal, Flandre is easy to startle, either via loud noise or simply by something she has never encountered before-of which there are many. Cars, for instance-or airhorns, or poking a fork into an electrical socket. Curiosity does have its downsides-though it keeps her out of and…gets her into trouble. Flandre only acts mischievously when she’s bored (a rare occurrence nowadays), or does dumb things by accident. The aforementioned electric socket shenanigans, for instance. And her eyes have a tendency of glowing in the dark, which can make being sneaky a bit of a challenge.
Canon Background: The earliest years of Flandre’s life are a mystery-despite the fact that there are a lot of them. A lot. She is said to have lived in the basement of the Scarlet Devil Mansion for 495 years-with few visits in the meantime, which hasn’t helped her sanity any. She was put there because she was off her rocker to begin with, like an unwanted child-and her immense destructive power was greater than that of her older sister Remilia’s. Flandre’s lack of control made it worse. Which came first-or whether they both manifested at the same time-is also a mystery.
Her elder has been unwilling-or unable--to deal with her, and alone Flandre existed, only visited rarely. Nevertheless, she loved her sister, and came to cherish these-no matter how far apart they were, or for what reason. Between these visits, her mind shredded itself to pieces, to be crushed under an aching loneliness. Flandre’s mind was still that of a child-it needed attention to thrive. Without this, it devolved into an insanity worse than before. She started talking to herself; first one-then two, and then three at once. And she wanted to play, even though everyone around her seemed reluctant to…
Her nature as a vampire didn’t help her own morbid creepiness-every human she tried to attack prior to living in the mansion’s basement tended to turn into a splatter on the wall. She lived in Europe before this-born in France in 1508--as indicated by the structure of her name and the fact that the mansion arrived in Japan relatively recently. The little vampire hasn’t been out much since-until she heard a noise.
Was someone fighting…with her sister?
The sound disappeared, and Flandre would have thought little of it…if she hadn’t heard it again, a few days later, when Remilia had gone outside. She wanted to see…and was confronted by an unlikely person almost as soon as she left the basement. Patchouli, the mansion’s librarian, and Remilia’s friend.
Also, a skilled magician.
But even she couldn’t keep the overpowered vampire contained for long-and she was free to confront the intruder.
To this day, she can’t clearly remember who it was…there are two images in her head. A shrine maiden, and a magician; different from Patchouli. Both? No, that would be silly. But it was the magician Marisa who she really remembers; quite fondly.
Oh, and that Flandre lost. That she’s not quite so fond of.
Background (AU!Canon; HP): (Smooth) Flandre’s story started in France-when she did. Again. Dying of an illness to an old family at such a young age, she was raised again as a vampire…and wasn’t the same as before. Though Flandre’s human life was mostly uneventful , characterized by a charming, inoffensive personality, as a vampire, she became…unpredictable. There were still a few bits of the old Flandre there…somewhere. Under the madness. But most of this was overtaken by a random, violent insanity, fueled by an unstable energy that didn’t seem to respond to any sort of wand.
The young, insane vampire was kept alone, until there was an answer for her.
It came in the form of wings.
They weren’t real ones, of course-more like phylacteries, made of iron and seven-colored crystals on the crossbars, they were clearly artificial. Flandre would never fly with them. But, that wasn’t the point. Attracted by her own energy, there was still a slight…problem, attaching them. To this day, whenever Flandre is wearing the wings, her body shows signs of rejection and scarification on her back, between the shoulder blades.
But the wings served a purpose.
They harnessed what energy was formerly unstable-and either dispersed it into the air as harmless light, or stabilized it, into something usable. Bit by bit, piece by piece-until it could be used by a wand, rather than for simpleminded wandless destruction.
And Flandre could think again. Remember her own name. Remember who she was-and pieces of who she used to be.
This didn’t happen overnight, though her youthful appearance might lead one to think that. It took years-one blurred into the next. She still felt the same age, when she could properly think again. And, then her letter arrived in the mail. To Hogwarts. Flandre must have been eleven, right?
There were several reasons why this letter was fortuitously timed-and why she was permitted to go. For starters…any French school of note, like Beauxbatons, wouldn’t have let Flandre in. A second reason is that it was overseas-and an excellent test if whether Flandre’s wings had done their job properly. Another, Dumbledore was the headmaster-and could take care of any…mishaps that might happen.
Also, it was Hogwarts.
Most of her equipment nevertheless seemed…strange, even by wizard standards.
Flandre’s wand wasn’t just ironwood--it seems to have upgraded to black iron completely, and is quite heavy. Despite its outer material, it was still quite illogically bendy in her hands-and at the wand’s core are dragon heartstrings. How weirdly coincidental.
Most of her possessions were in general much heavier than expected (per their design), given Flandre’s size and appearance. Her own strength does not match the profile of “harmless little girl” at all-though she doesn’t show off much, many things she still does without thinking about them. She is in the process of learning better-but it is a process, and still one she forgets sometimes. Vampire or not, she’s still a little girl.
Between her wings and the medicine, Flandre is for the most part quite harmless.
Mostly.
The wings she doesn’t need constantly anymore, though the vampire still has to reattach them every night when they won’t be seen. If Flandre skips a day, she will get a bit cranky as her energy builds up again. The medicine takes the form of a potion, and permits her to go out in the sun and across running water with a…minimum, of discomfort. It keeps her from wanting to eat anyone, too-though Flandre has practically been raised on processed blood it’s quite arguable that the real thing would initially make her quite sick. It doesn’t need to be taken every day, but she also starts to get cranky if she misses a dose; they let her sidestep the issue of being a vampire, rather than deal with it.
Name: Sam
Timezone: EST
Personal Journal: blue_raven64
Players Contact/AIM/MSN/YAHOO: AIM/ironbirdobserver
Email Address: slgstudentmail(at)yahoo(dot)com
Former/Other Characters in the RP: None, new person here /o/
How did you hear about us?: RPG Directory
Character Information
Name: Flandre Scarlet
Canon Origin/Series: Touhou Project
School Year: First Year
Gender: Female
Age: 11
Out of school living location: Versailles, France
Blood status: Unknown (Vampire)
Personality: Flandre is childish in nature-befitting her appearance as a little girl. Being locked up in isolation seems to have preserved those parts of her mind--and left others to rot and fester. Seemingly minor mental problems have grown and developed into major facets of her personality, aggravated by isolation and lack of social contact to render her largely unstable and of questionable sanity. Her mood swings are many and unpredictable, and it doesn’t take much to change her from “disgustingly cute loli” to “holy shit it’s eating my face”. Tantrums are common-but so is an overwhelming curiosity about things she’s never seen or experienced before, which is pretty much everything. She’s quite likely to “why” you to death. This childish curiosity expresses itself in more ways than simply asking questions of everything-most situations she has never experienced before, and she reacts to them in strange and unpredictable ways. Flandre is poorly adjusted, yes-but not necessarily evil.
When encountered in a docile or curious state, people usually think of her as a rather cheerful, charming-and excessively creepy--little girl. However, seemingly random things will set her off into a violent fit of anger-and the vampire rarely forgets names.
When not staring off into space, Flandre tends to ramble on in monologues a lot and trails off mid-sentence if another thought occurs to her while she’s talking; often foiling attempts at conversation. She readily talks to herself when she is alone-and isn’t too distressed by disembodied voices.
Flandre has a rather spotty recollection of the earliest years of her life, though she remembers some seemingly random things. Of note is the fact that she hasn’t really realized that her food is basically made of people, and has largely forgotten that she needs to feed on humans on a regular basis. She doesn’t really connect the dots between “person” and “delicious cake” the same way most people don’t associate livestock with little Styrofoam trays and shrink-wrap. She is quite aware of what she is, but assumes that she must be special in some way, and thinks the general consensus of hostility towards vampires is entirely unjustified.
Flandre’s vampirism is there-along with her mental instability-if one knows what to look for. Her eyes are still vampire red, her teeth sharp but with few signs of wear-both things she blames on birth defects. She sometimes uses a parasol-but as long as she has her “medicine” around she doesn’t really need it. Something about being easily sunburned. The fact that she can’t stand running water-including rain-well…Flandre just…hates rain. Yes. And garlic stinks.
The fact that she doesn’t appear in silver mirrors, specifically-that, she can’t explain and hopes no one notices. The same with her vampiric strength, accelerated healing factor, and general lack of aging. And of course she’s not insane, what would make you ask that? Nothing to see here.
The smell of blood nevertheless excites her and is about as sweet as sugar to her-she doesn’t understand why everyone else doesn’t think so. Blood itself doesn’t bother her as much as it would a normal human, either; Flandre can be covered in it and perfectly happy with this, as long as she had fed recently.
There is a small, surprisingly mature side to the vampire’s character too; generally emerging during periods of calm lucidity or in the moments immediately preceding a panic attack. She rambles less and her speech becomes more coherent and usually waxes philosophical; her memories become more clarified and easier to understand.
When she excited or happy about something, this changes to a decidedly immature glee, turning her from a surprisingly mature little girl to a properly excitable one again. Ironically, it is most often that stuff gets broken in this state, as the vampire gets carried away quite easily and won’t realize she’s torn someone’s arm off shaking their hand until they start screaming. Flandre is rather like a kitten in this state; full of energy and wanting to play until she suddenly tires and drops in place.
The distinction between “people” and “objects” in her mind is a vague, abstract one she doesn’t fully understand herself. The only people she’s had consistent contact with were her older sister Remilia, occasional visits from the gate guard Meiling, and more recently in her life, the maid Sakuya. These, she identifies as “people” and wouldn’t think of breaking them. Well, at least not on purpose in Meiling’s case. Accidents happened.
Objects, on the other hand, are just objects. If they get broken, no real loss. The vast majority of otherwise sentient beings falls into the “object” class, along with such things as teddy bears. “Important” things, like books, Flandre tries not to break. She’s never learned better, because most would-be tutors tended to end up occupying a surface area rather than a volume in short order.
Flandre is intimidated by anyone with an air of authority similar to her sister’s, particularly women. And any commands yelled-or even relayed in a stern tone--by these personages is sufficient to shock her into a state of quiet obedience. The closer the voice sounds to Remilia’s, the more likely Flandre is to listen unconditionally.
While not otherwise frightened by a great deal, Flandre is easy to startle, either via loud noise or simply by something she has never encountered before-of which there are many. Cars, for instance-or airhorns, or poking a fork into an electrical socket. Curiosity does have its downsides-though it keeps her out of and…gets her into trouble. Flandre only acts mischievously when she’s bored (a rare occurrence nowadays), or does dumb things by accident. The aforementioned electric socket shenanigans, for instance. And her eyes have a tendency of glowing in the dark, which can make being sneaky a bit of a challenge.
Canon Background: The earliest years of Flandre’s life are a mystery-despite the fact that there are a lot of them. A lot. She is said to have lived in the basement of the Scarlet Devil Mansion for 495 years-with few visits in the meantime, which hasn’t helped her sanity any. She was put there because she was off her rocker to begin with, like an unwanted child-and her immense destructive power was greater than that of her older sister Remilia’s. Flandre’s lack of control made it worse. Which came first-or whether they both manifested at the same time-is also a mystery.
Her elder has been unwilling-or unable--to deal with her, and alone Flandre existed, only visited rarely. Nevertheless, she loved her sister, and came to cherish these-no matter how far apart they were, or for what reason. Between these visits, her mind shredded itself to pieces, to be crushed under an aching loneliness. Flandre’s mind was still that of a child-it needed attention to thrive. Without this, it devolved into an insanity worse than before. She started talking to herself; first one-then two, and then three at once. And she wanted to play, even though everyone around her seemed reluctant to…
Her nature as a vampire didn’t help her own morbid creepiness-every human she tried to attack prior to living in the mansion’s basement tended to turn into a splatter on the wall. She lived in Europe before this-born in France in 1508--as indicated by the structure of her name and the fact that the mansion arrived in Japan relatively recently. The little vampire hasn’t been out much since-until she heard a noise.
Was someone fighting…with her sister?
The sound disappeared, and Flandre would have thought little of it…if she hadn’t heard it again, a few days later, when Remilia had gone outside. She wanted to see…and was confronted by an unlikely person almost as soon as she left the basement. Patchouli, the mansion’s librarian, and Remilia’s friend.
Also, a skilled magician.
But even she couldn’t keep the overpowered vampire contained for long-and she was free to confront the intruder.
To this day, she can’t clearly remember who it was…there are two images in her head. A shrine maiden, and a magician; different from Patchouli. Both? No, that would be silly. But it was the magician Marisa who she really remembers; quite fondly.
Oh, and that Flandre lost. That she’s not quite so fond of.
Background (AU!Canon; HP): (Smooth) Flandre’s story started in France-when she did. Again. Dying of an illness to an old family at such a young age, she was raised again as a vampire…and wasn’t the same as before. Though Flandre’s human life was mostly uneventful , characterized by a charming, inoffensive personality, as a vampire, she became…unpredictable. There were still a few bits of the old Flandre there…somewhere. Under the madness. But most of this was overtaken by a random, violent insanity, fueled by an unstable energy that didn’t seem to respond to any sort of wand.
The young, insane vampire was kept alone, until there was an answer for her.
It came in the form of wings.
They weren’t real ones, of course-more like phylacteries, made of iron and seven-colored crystals on the crossbars, they were clearly artificial. Flandre would never fly with them. But, that wasn’t the point. Attracted by her own energy, there was still a slight…problem, attaching them. To this day, whenever Flandre is wearing the wings, her body shows signs of rejection and scarification on her back, between the shoulder blades.
But the wings served a purpose.
They harnessed what energy was formerly unstable-and either dispersed it into the air as harmless light, or stabilized it, into something usable. Bit by bit, piece by piece-until it could be used by a wand, rather than for simpleminded wandless destruction.
And Flandre could think again. Remember her own name. Remember who she was-and pieces of who she used to be.
This didn’t happen overnight, though her youthful appearance might lead one to think that. It took years-one blurred into the next. She still felt the same age, when she could properly think again. And, then her letter arrived in the mail. To Hogwarts. Flandre must have been eleven, right?
There were several reasons why this letter was fortuitously timed-and why she was permitted to go. For starters…any French school of note, like Beauxbatons, wouldn’t have let Flandre in. A second reason is that it was overseas-and an excellent test if whether Flandre’s wings had done their job properly. Another, Dumbledore was the headmaster-and could take care of any…mishaps that might happen.
Also, it was Hogwarts.
Most of her equipment nevertheless seemed…strange, even by wizard standards.
Flandre’s wand wasn’t just ironwood--it seems to have upgraded to black iron completely, and is quite heavy. Despite its outer material, it was still quite illogically bendy in her hands-and at the wand’s core are dragon heartstrings. How weirdly coincidental.
Most of her possessions were in general much heavier than expected (per their design), given Flandre’s size and appearance. Her own strength does not match the profile of “harmless little girl” at all-though she doesn’t show off much, many things she still does without thinking about them. She is in the process of learning better-but it is a process, and still one she forgets sometimes. Vampire or not, she’s still a little girl.
Between her wings and the medicine, Flandre is for the most part quite harmless.
Mostly.
The wings she doesn’t need constantly anymore, though the vampire still has to reattach them every night when they won’t be seen. If Flandre skips a day, she will get a bit cranky as her energy builds up again. The medicine takes the form of a potion, and permits her to go out in the sun and across running water with a…minimum, of discomfort. It keeps her from wanting to eat anyone, too-though Flandre has practically been raised on processed blood it’s quite arguable that the real thing would initially make her quite sick. It doesn’t need to be taken every day, but she also starts to get cranky if she misses a dose; they let her sidestep the issue of being a vampire, rather than deal with it.