[hider=Fleur Nuit]
[hider=Character Sheet]
[center]
Name: 

[i]Fleur Nuit[/i]

Parents:

[i]Estelle Nuit (Birth Mother), Bartholomew Dodici (Birth Father), Amaranth Desire (Step Mother).[/i]

Age: 

[i]15[/i]

Gender: 

[i]Female[/i]

Race: 

[i]Human[/i]

Weapon: 

[hider= Fleurir] [img]http://previews.123rf.com/images/anyka/anyka0905/anyka090500151/4912918-Combined-image-of-a-medieval-sword-and-a-classical-violin-Stock-Photo.jpg[/img]

[i]Fleurir is a Mistralese saying; a double entendre of sorts, it means both for a flower to bloom and a musician to perform their own twist of excellence on a piece. When Estellise and Amy took Fleur to a foundry in order to craft her first weapon, she did not want to be a huntress still. Thusly, Fleur made her mother’s compromise on a violin that doubled as a pair of blades. The weapon has a multitude of tricks and intricacies to it that make Fleur such a strong fighter, even if she didn’t intend to be. Firstly the most obvious blade is the neck of the violin, however the blade upon a quick flick unsheathes a hidden thin blade meant for thrusting and a fighting style reminiscent of fencing. Fleur also uses dust strings whenever she strings the violin. By doing this, by playing different chords she can utilize different techniques. For example, an F Major chord can send a concussive force towards her opponents, while a C Minor can freeze her enemies.[/i] [/hider]

Semblance: 

[i]Amour Fou:

Much like Fleur’s personality, her semblance is very much passive. Those around her find themselves falling in love with her, though this love is not sexual in nature it is more a deep admiration, respect and compulsion to protect Fleur. In doing so Fleur is able to not only distract those she is fighting against, she inherently begins to win over others as she fights. This is however inherently weakened by those with notably personal and desperate thoughts on their mind, hatred towards Fleur herself, and those who are aware of her semblance and actively fight against it. Otherwise, Fleur is the perfect huntress to send into an interrogation, negotiation or other tense situations. [/i]

Personality: 

[i]Fleur avoids conflict unless she is completely comfortable around the people she is with. This trait has been with her since birth and as such she oft found herself repelling her mothers’ ideas of becoming a huntress like themselves, attending Beacon academy and journeying trough her life. Instead, Fleur was ambitious in her own right: as a composer. She would come up with new compositions on the spot, this is a part of her more creative side. Fleur isn’t typically found among friends, she is often found either training with her weapon and semblance or playing music.

Now that she is actually attending Beacon Academy, Fleur is relatively happy she decided to go as she has found there is more to being a huntress than brute strength. She even enjoys fighting to some degree, when she is facing an intelligent opponent. She tends to find a certain appeal in intellectual challenge, which is one of the reasons she composes her own pieces. 

Fleur is currently attempting to find out more about her father. If anything, Fleur doesn’t deal with negative emotions well, she gets this from Estelle. She finds herself at a loss for words and feeling numb constantly every time she gets closer to finding out more about her father, the more she learns the worse she feels.[/i]

Appearance: 

[Hider=Picture][img]http://oi68.tinypic.com/20iasrl.jpg[/img][/hider]

Biography: 

[i]When Estelle graduated from Beacon Academy, she hadn’t taken as much time as she could’ve to make friends, there was her team and Amy. So, she decided to work with those she knew until her father called upon her presence to take up her role as heiress to the Nuit throne. She was married off to a man from the Dodici family, they had apparently reformed since head members of the family had kidnapped Estelle’s sister. When she told Amy of this development, her friend told her to fight the marriage, but Estelle considered herself more patient, wiser. 

The marriage was successful in bringing the families together and producing an offspring. Estelle insisted on the name Fleur, and that she take her own last name, Bartholomew didn’t seem to care and it made Estelle happy, for now things seemed to be turning up for the Faunus. She was named Fleur taking her best friend Amaranth’s namesake and combining it with the Mistralese language. Bartholomew drank quite a bit, blamed Estelle’s sister’s team for that, the horrors they inflicted on his family when they rescued Estelle’s sister. He would always target their beautiful baby daughter, but Estelle knew how to push his buttons and make him target her instead. After merely three years of this treatment, once Fleur had gotten to an age that Estelle felt that she had to move her at, Estelle became a widow. 

She took Fleur that night and cradled her in her arms singing to her as she hired a caravan to take them back to Vale, back to Amy. When Estelle arrived at Amy’s door she remembered the night well, she looked like shit, smelled like it to. She and Fleur had been on the road for days now, and upon seeing her friend she began sobbing, tears streaming down her bruised cheeks. They spent the night together, and from that day on they spent most nights together. When Estelle woke up the next day, breakfast had been served along, they became lovers moments after.

Since Fleur could speak coherently she always referred to Amy as mum and Estelle as momma, it was their own little system. However not all was well in the Desire-Nuit household, as Amy and Estelle pushed Fleur to become a huntress, she pushed in an opposite direction, towards music. It took some doing to show her that she could do both, and before long the girl had become a student at Beacon Academy where her mothers had met and their journey had began.[/i][/center]
[/hider]
[hider=Short Story Segment]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCH8O7kOSaY]Musique Pour La Tristesse (Music For Sadness)[/url]

Amy wrapped her arms around Estelle’s neck, squeezing her warmly, pecking her cheek with puckered lips. 

“It’s going to be okay, we raised our baby right – she’ll understand hon.” 

“Momma are you ready yet?” Estelle’s sharp ears plucked the sound echoing through their house as her fingers deftly raised themselves to her eyes and whisked away a fleeting tear as they had done so many times before.

“I’m coming sweetheart.” Estelle said just loud enough to be heard by her daughter downstairs. She turned to Amy and gave her a fleeting kiss, one that was never quite long enough, before turning to leave their room.  

“I’m so proud of you babe.” Amy said sweetly.

Estelle grabbed her purse hanging on the mantle beside their door and hurried down the steps to see her daughter’s bright blue eyes waiting for her. She noted that she barely resembled her daughter, she had inherited so much from her father, except for one thing. A look of sadness, melancholia overwhelming every one of Fleur’s beautiful features, Estelle frowned.

“Alright, finally, we good to go?” Fleur said turning to the door, not waiting for her mother’s answer before opening the door.

“Yes, let’s go.” Estelle said in a similar warm tone that she saved for her lover and her daughter. 

Once they were at the station Estelle found herself fidgeting, twiddling her thumbs, playing with her hair. Anything to keep moving, she even found herself reaching for her sword, which was not there, every few minutes. 

“Is Auntie Bianca going to meet us at the station?” Fleur asked, her eyes gleaming with the smallest signs of happiness.

“No sweetie, it’s just us today.” Estelle said cursing herself for not thinking about inviting Bianca. But she was probably off busy with Gratia or Napoli. Estelle noticed that silence had followed and set in, Fleur was playing with her hair, curling it around one finger.

“Are you looking forward to today?” Estelle asked, looking for the train, waiting for it to come in.

“Not really, it feels like a checkup; I know I need to go but I’ve been dreading it ever since.” Her daughter answered visibly defeated.

“I understand that,” Estelle began before silently picking out the best way to continue her sentence. “Do you have any questions?”

“I should probably just wait until we get there, right?”

“Oh,” Estelle faltered “of course.”

Before long, the train broke the silence that followed, braking loudly next to the mother and daughter. Quickly they boarded and found a seat, as always Fleur picked. 

“What’s it like there?” Fleur said breaking the same silence that the train had just freed them from. But Estelle grinned, however wracked with anxiety that grin was, for this was something she knew well.

“Well, it’s tough. People expect a lot from you and it isn’t easy to get by either. But those that play their cards correctly, well, they can make it I suppose.”

“Did you play yours?” Fleur asked, perking up.

“Not quite as well as others.” Estelle said wincing at the memories that all replayed themselves in an instant. “I feel more nervous than you do.” Estelle said with a forced out laugh. Attempting to make light of the small fears she had.

“Why?” Her daughter asked, sending a beat from Estelle’s heart directly to her mind.

“I-“ Estelle began, attempting to give reason to her daughter.

“Do you think I’ll end up like him?”

“Sweetie you’re nothing like-“

“Then why are you worried?”

Estelle felt a sensation in her nose that was meant as a warning, her vision would become misty and she would begin to produce tears. She grabbed her skirt with her fists, catching some of the flesh from her legs in her grip but not lessening it whatsoever. The pain brought her back, back to reason.

“I’m not worried that you’re going to end up like your father, it was your mum’s idea for you to bring you out here so that you knew where you came from, what I took you from.” 

Fleur turned to the window in silence.

Once they arrived at their platform the conductor’s voice rang out through the train. “Last stop: Zephyr, Mistral – please depart.”
Estelle walked her daughter silently up the grand hill that Zephyr was built on, Fleur seemed to marvel at the architecture, the windmills in the distance; even Estelle had forgotten how beautiful this town was. They arrived at the Dodici manor and stopped at the front door.

“This” Estelle said motioning towards the door. “This is what I took you from.” 

Fleur gazed up at the manor, there was no doubt that it put their very modest two-floor apartment to shame. It was silent for a moment before Fleur walked in front of her mother. Estelle’s heart dropped as she saw her daughter walking towards the very same family she had worked so hard to separate her from.

But Fleur turned back to her mother. “Tell me about dad, not the boring stuff you’ve always told me. Tell me about him.”

Estelle bit her lip in order to stop her jaw from shaking as much as it was before beginning.

“On the best days, your father was not a very happy man. I would call him something more akin to content. On his worst days your father, he was…” But Estelle trailed off, her left hand aimlessly trailing over her own cheek brushing a common location where he would strike her. “He was less content, sometimes with you, sometimes with me, and sometimes with himself; only I could tell which it was.” Estelle said as if she was reminding herself. “I thought that if you were raised there, that you would not grow to be the young woman that I” Estelle fought her words, her cheeks were damp but she pushed on. “I love today. I couldn’t let you live there.” 

Fleur nodded once more, as she had been doing through Estelle’s explanation. Estelle knew that her daughter was smart enough to know that she was not being given the entire story, but her mother was visibly disturbed. 

“That’s good enough then.” Fleur said, walking straight past Estelle and back towards the tram station. “I didn’t really want to do this anyway, let’s go.” She said, and her mother followed.

The ride home was in complete silence as the reds and oranges of the sunset draped themselves over the landscape and into the tram. When they got home, Estelle hugged her daughter and left for the night shift she commonly took in order to be around during the day for her daughter.
It was around three in the morning when Amy heard a knock on her bedroom door. 

“Come in.” She said finishing the sentence of the book she was reading and putting her finger on the word, before looking up. “What’s up sweetie?” She said greeting her daughter.

“Can you tell me about momma?” Fleur asked, hopping on her mum’s bed.

“Sure, what do you want to know?” Amy asked placing the book beside her, giving her daughter her full attention.

“Well, when did you two fall in love?” Fleur asked innocently.

Amy blushed a little, but waved it off. “I don’t think there was any one moment specifically where your momma and I fell in love, I think we both just realized it one night.” 

“Was that when you met me?” Fleur asked impatiently.

Amy hadn’t expected a question so upfront with Fleur, but she pivoted. “Yes, it was,”

“What was my dad like?”

“He wasn’t a good man.”

Fleur groaned loudly. “Why not?”

“He did bad things.” 

“Mum.” Fleur objected. “I want to know.”

Amy sighed and silently apologized to Estelle. “Do you remember what your momma and I tell you about love?” 

“It’s when two people mean the world to each other, and when they’d do anything for each other.” Fleur mused as if reading a textbook.

“He was not like that.” Amy said obtusely. “Your father got very angry sometimes-“

“Momma already told me about this. He got angry, well I’m angry right now so am I just as bad?” Fleur questioned, until now Amy hadn’t noticed but her eyes were slightly red, they seemed as if they were ready to cry.

Amy pulled her daughter into her chest and wrapped her arms around her tenderly. “No, sweetie you’re nothing like him. You are exactly like your momma.” She cooed softly rocking back and forth slowly. “You love music, more than anything and your momma and I had to fight you just to get you to attend Beacon. Your father… He hurt your momma, she was in a lot of pain when she came to me, after he died. It’s something that you would never do to someone you loved.” She said quietly. 

“All this time, no one could tell me [b]that[/b]?” Fleur said quietly into her mother’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry sweetie, but your momma struggles with telling you every single morning and every single night. She thinks about how to tell you, when to tell you, what to do after she tells you.” Amy said continuing to rock her baby back and forth. 

For a while, they continued like that, until Fleur got up. “How much did momma go through for me?” 

“She and I would do everything we’ve already went through twice over for you sweetie. We love you with everything we have.” Amy said, leaning over to her daughter and wiping a small tear away, absentmindedly fixing her hair.

“Thanks mum. Truth be told, I wouldn't want to live in that kind of mansion anyway.” Fleur said giving her mother a final hug. She turned to leave the room and as she was closing the door she paused. “I’ll make mum breakfast tomorrow.” She said quietly, exiting the room.

[b]Final WC: 1,636[/b]
[/hider][/hider]