Name: Jeanne d'Luc
Epic Identity: The Archangel
Age: 20
Faction: Epic
Ability: Light Manipulation -- Jeanne can take existing ambient light and alter it at will. She can even so intensely compact the particles together that they can take a hardened form. Allowing herself to give herself wings, or dozens of floating swords that are made of pure light.
Weakness: Cast Iron -- If she has a piece of Cast Iron anywhere on her form, whether it be manacles, chains, or even a small ball bearing, she will have her powers fully cancelled.
Personality: When it comes to Jeanne's personality, she possesses an outright conviction for what she believes is right, and what is wrong. To which she relentlessly pursues action against the latter. For the Epics, for those she deems as a force of good, she often volunteers to be the spearhead in any large conflict that might arise.
Appearance: Jeanne's appearance when she is in her normal state, is rather simple but pleasant all the same. Sticking to simple, but decent fashion standards, her usual normal clothing consists of a white blouse, a black skirt, and the entirety of her ankle-length blonde hair tied up into a loose braid. Her legs are often enshrouded in stockings, and she wears heels as well. She holds a professional air about her, and that is simply the best way to describe it.
Her appearance as a heroine however, is that which can be best described as an angelic aesthetic, complete with radiant wings:
Background: The early life of the Archangel contains the sort of misery that is so commonplace in the lives of thousands. When she was but a toddler her father disappeared; and her mother, unable to support their fledgling family, found their salvation in remarriage. Marriage to a man who gave her family food and shelter, a place to live, but at a cost.
He struck his wife, savagely beat her and treated her like filth for the entirety of Jeanne's childhood. Terrified for her only child and not wanting her to see any of such abominable behavior, she locked Jeanne inside the closet to try and protect her. There, in the pitch black darkness, she was forced to sit there and listen to the sounds of horror beyond the barrier. How the very floor shook with her stepfather's fury, the rattle of the walls as he threw her mother against them, the muffle of her screams as he tried to suffocate her, the sound of her mother being forced to scrub her own blood off the walls after suturing her wounds.
Almost every day this nightmare continued for many years, until one fated day she awoke. When she was barely just nine years of age, in the darkness there was a light. A faint glimmer of starlight that flickered in her hands, filling the closet with radiance. Her stepfather, holding her unconscious mother by the collar, saw the light dancing beneath the edge of the door that evening, and swung it wide open with the intention of beating her for lighting a fire.
When she was the tender age of nine, she took her first life.
While his fists clenched with cruel intention, she recoiled back and away from him in fear. When she curled up in terror, the light before her expanded and shattered. Breaking apart into hundreds of daggers which tore through the air faster than he could blink, and tore through him. Impaling him into the wall behind him and leaving his body in a maimed and ravaged ruin. Once his life faded from his eyes, the light dissipated into dust into the air, and her mother awoke to a grisly scene: her husband torn asunder by an invisible weapon, and her daughter curled up and consumed with inconsolable tears in the closet.
Detectives were at a loss. There was no weapon, there was nothing that could possibly link the wife or the girl to the murder. His death was ruled as an accident; but the Epics of New York knew better.
Within just a few weeks of the incident being resolved, there was a visitor. A mysterious individual who Jeanne eventually came to know as The Clairvoyant.
Like I said before... It's a matter of energies... You have too much yang you're gonna enjoy more sciency stuff... Too much yin... you enjoy more wordy stuff... I can appreciate the wonder and marvel of mathematics... the golden ration, the Fibonacci sequence, Pi... without actually enjoying doing math... Just like sciency people can enjoy and appreciate literature without enjoying creative writing.
