Genevieve
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Background
The coastal storm of '45 hit Kusheth hard and fast, as harsh in its destruction as the angel himself. Many families and homes were torn apart - Genevieve's was more fortunate, but only barely. While all of her brothers and sisters were alive afterwards, as were her parents, their small handful of fishing boats weren't so lucky. Her mother and father had planned their lives carefully, making sure to have enough children to grow their business, but without those boats, there were too many mouths to feed. As the youngest, the one who would take the longest to reach an age where she would be help rather than drain, Genevieve had to go.
It was her quiet, solemn demeanor that grabbed the attention of the man who came from Elua to survey the remnants of the small towns along the coast, after the storm. A middle-man of small repute, he traveled often in search of servants and potential novices-to-be for the Houses of Mont Nuit. After a few evenings of discussion with her parents, he took Genevieve with him when he left town. She joined the train of boys and girls without so much as a ripple to mark her passing.
In the weeks that it took him to lead his charges into the city, the middle-man watched them, trying to figure out where he would place each one. Some would end up servants in the noble houses, some would go to the night-blooming court instead, but he hadn't failed to place a child yet. When it came time to choose a place for Genevieve, he factored two things into the decision: one, that she spoke so quietly but was heard every time, even at 8 years old. Normally he would have considered her for Dahlia, but the second point changed his mind. Any of the others who didn't listen were punished, ostracized, given petty torments, and all the while the girl herself watched with quiet and secret delight. To Mandrake she went.
The House took Genevieve in and began training. It was necessary: she had to be broken of that delight in the pain of others. It wasn't proper for a Servant of Naamah to find quite that much pleasure without controls in place to keep it from twisting ugly. And it took quite a while for that lesson to sink home, long enough that her debut was looking to be delayed indefinitely. It caused a minor stir at the time, but the hubbub was soon lost in the deep shadows that all of the Houses hold.
That debut was a small affair, brokered with only a few select guests of a demeanor to enjoy the particular flavor of Genevieve's skills. When it was done, she began collecting patrons. It was a quiet process, and slow of her own volition. Most of the time her contracts were for lengthy stretches, with men and women who wanted to yield for more than a single evening, who wanted more than simple whip or blade.
Not much changed for her when the last inches of her marque were set into skin. Content to teach when asked, to serve when called on, she kept her attentions on the House rather than the city outside its walls. Never one to shout when a quiet word would do just as well, her reputation inside Mandrake grew to match. Much as when she was a child, she was heard. Much as when she was a child, those who didn't listen came to regret it. The difference was that it was done to support the House instead of for her own pleasure. That didn't mean she made no enemies by those so punished, but at least she was doing it on purpose.
When Amarante passed away, Genevieve gathered herself to move. Long years of quiet were ready to be traded in. But then Nevelon stepped forward, and rather than fight with him over the position, she subsided to wait again, patient as can be. She would find the proper moment to step forward.
Description
She's tall for a woman, nearly six-foot, and solid in frame -- certainly, no one could accuse her of 'slender' or 'slight'. That solid frame is composed of long, lean muscle and sparse curves. A strong nose and chin, high cheekbones and deep set pale blue eyes all speak of Kusheline blood. They also tend towards an image of a handsome woman rather than a pretty one, though mid-length blond curls soften her features just enough. For now they're pulled into a braid over her shoulder, tied about loosely with cording and ribbon so they look ready to tumble free at any moment. Her skin is pale roses and cream, fair complexion maintained despite her forty-odd years. A raspy burr coats her voice, an alto register that leans towards the quieter volumes.
The length of her body is emphasized by the sleeveless, backless robes she wears. They fall in a languid tumble of draped burgundy silk, held together by heavy frogs at the shoulders, just beneath the faint curve of her breasts, again at stomach, and in a line down to the floor. The deep v created by cloth in the front allows the Dowayne's necklace to see the light. With robes left open in the back, her completed marque is framed by cloth: Mandrake, all twisting green vines, brown thorns and closed yellow petals. This is an ornate version of the robes worn by an adept of the House, in a richer material, but close enough to the original for the similarities to show. Sandals are the protection of choice for her feet at the moment, wrapped around her ankles. Her perfume is a faint hint of sharp lemon and biting spearmint, scents for waking and awareness.
Personality
Genevieve does very little on accident, or at least tries not to. She doesn't smile - the closest she gets is a near smile - and she rarely laughs. What she has instead is a dry amusement that can often be (mis)taken for sarcasm.
Family, Friends, & Enemies
Family
While Genevieve has family back in Kusheth, she hasn't seen or heard much of them since she was 8 years old. The House is her family instead, with the Night Court as a whole her extended family.
Until Franky Lefond showed up in her salon and informed her in no uncertain terms that they're related; Franky claims to be Genevieve's aunt on her father's side. Letters have been sent to Kusheth in the hopes of confirming the claim.
Word has spilled out of Mandrake, and from a few other spots in the city, that the Dowayne has taken a consort. It's easy enough to find out that it's Hermes; for whatever reason, she and the duc aren't making a big deal out of it.
Friends
It's hard to tell exactly who Genevieve counts as a friend; they probably know, but it's not like she marches down Main Street with a brass band. However, she has often been seen in the company of, and acting fondly enough of: Hermes, Gabrielle, Renaud, Cypres, Gautier, Celine and Lunaire.
Enemies
Enemies is such a strong word. Still, social events when they're tossed together have show that Genevieve and Briar are particularly catty at each other at the slightest opportunity. And though he's since left the city, she's rarely had particularly kind words to say about the previous Mandrake Dowayne, Nevelon.
Quotes
Genevieve to Renee: "...I'm a frail flower of femininity and too delicate for things like walking. That's why I have patrons to carry me around everywhere I go."
Genevieve to Gabrielle in letter: "... It isn't my wish to run a second House; one herd of cats is enough for me."
