Post by Constanza Deville on Apr 3, 2008 22:17:15 GMT -5
Character Basics
Name: Constanza Deville
Nickname: Stanza
Birth Name: Anais Cheever
Birthday: December 21
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Desired Position: Phantomess
Appearance
Eyes: Vibrant blue green
Hair: Wavy chocolate brown almost black, fall a little past her waist
Height: 5’5
Body: Toned but not muscular, average endowment, slightly tanned
Character Information
Personality: For a woman of almost thirty, Anais is full of energy, not the hyper type of energy though. It’s more like a spirit that carves excitement. One that is always searching for something new and trilling adventure! Her features usually have some gleam to them with alertness at the next possibility of something cooking, and by sure if she finds one she’ll stir it till it’s boiling! There is always a smile or smirk on her face that suggest she knows something that you don’t.
Though Anais is a firecracker, when she is Constanza she is sophisticated rouge. Learning from the ladies of the night and observing those considered high society she was able to control her spirit and put it into having a calm and mysterious persona. She can be sly, coy, and clever, only giving a hint of her mischievous mind that is was plotting. Except for when she is angered.
When angry the woman doesn’t care who is around to see her or who she is supposed to be. Her tongue is fire with matching eyes. She’ll throw both verbal and physical assaults without a second thought. Seeing this side of her isn’t very pleasant and should be avoid at any cost.
History: Constanza Deville whose real name is Anais Cheever was born in the slums of Paris to Marc and Ambre Cheever. The Cheever’s never had any title to them other then beggars and street rats. Marc Cheever and Ambre Desmarais were on the lower ends of the social latter, each living in a humble ruin down hovel of a place. They never were officially married but they didn’t really care about that. They were a loving couple that worked hard in factories for minuscule amounts. However good things don’t always happen to good people.
Once they had their first child things started to go down hill. Finances were bad because of a new mouth to feed, but only two years little Remy died of disease. The couple was absolutely downtrodden and slowly fell into depression after money kept becoming scarce with each child that couldn’t seem to hold onto their life.
Anais was the only when to survey, out of the whole family. Her father was ill and mother died in childbirth. A man that’s been through such tragedy, sick, and in such conditions sent the babe to an orphanage hoping one to come claim her again. However the man died that night from wondering out in the snow. So began little Anais’ journey into the harsh dark world of those as she puts it ‘cursed’.
Being such a precious little baby she was adopted immediately by a well off family. Her governess wasn’t a very pleasant woman along with her adoptive mother. They’d often snarled at her and were strict with raising her. Anais had a different plan though and became rebellious which formed her fiery toughness. Form an early age of four she was an annoyingly mischievous child playing pranks on the servants, her governess, and sometimes daring to pull one on her mother.
However she pulled one to many was kicked to the streets only to be put into another orphanage. There she was able to hone her ability to scare and fight like a boy. Anais’ ‘You’re more worthless then the dirt under my fingernails’ attitude irritated everyone and she’d often get into fist fights with the boys, winning half of the time, and cruel remarks from girl who’d the next day find their hair chopped or clothes in the mud puddles.
When she was fifteen she was also kicked out of the orphanage to live on the streets. Which she did easily enough for a young girl to fend for herself. Anais could defend herself and with the stealth skills she learned playing her jokes she was able to master pick pocketing and other tricks that thieves and scoundrels use to live. Instead of joining a group though she preferred to be on her own with only a few connections to lean on during tough times. Doing so made her flourish as much as a thief can.
Often she’d take shelter in some sort of basement, abandoned building, or some stable, but she soon changed her ‘residence’ to the nook-and-crannies of the Opera House Populaire. It was like luxury to her! Being able to know for certain where bed would be that night, and that she’d have at least a meal of bread and cheese stolen from the kitchen. Though of coarse she kept up her talents in the trade so not to get rusty.
When not out stealing someone’s wallet or putting mice in the vendor’s bends, Anais would sit behind some object or in the shadows listening and watching those who she called ‘the privileged’. Seeing the graceful ballerinas and singers in wonderful costumes and in the spotlight for the high-class people to watch them. To her it was a glamorous life, despite the small trivials the girls fretted over. She’d watch them in the mornings, on her return from her outings, at night she listened to their stories most of them about the Phantom of the Opera, and on the occasions she slept in the passageways she listened to a mysterious melody.
Her home though was gone when the Populaire burned down and she was a bit devastated at the lose. But Anais was not one to sulk for long and was back to her old routine of a street rat. She was slowly regaining her reputation among the pickpockets when the news that the Opera House was being rebuilt. Anais would wonder around the site each day ready to be the first to reclaim her spot, but while the meanders she heard rumors from the workers that the infamous Phantom had died in the fire and that they’d never have to worry about the Ghost plaguing the Populaire anymore.
Anais took this as a keen opportunity better herself. Not as a person of coarse but as a trickster. Though she never really believed in the Phantom she wasn’t going to let the ‘legend’ die. The idea formed in her head that she would be the next Opera Ghost and do the others ‘unfinished work’ whatever those were.
So when the Populaire wad done she settled herself in a little alcove under the Opera House. Taking clothing from the costume closest she was able to fix a whole new suitable look for herself. No longer would she be Anais the Thief, but Constanza Deville the Phantomess!
Random Info:
Likes: Playing tricks on people, organ music, watching the opera
Dislikes: Begging, being put down because of her gender, cowards
Fears: Being put in jail, losing her skills, becoming a giggling girl
Habits: Smirking all the time, stealing
Family:
Parents: Marc and Ambre Cheever; both deceased
Sibling: Remy-older brother, Yves-older brother, Odette-older sister; all deceased
Relatives: None
Other:
Custom Title: Mistress of the Populaire
The magic word: Inside my mind
Role Play Sample:
(Another POTO site)
Miyu noticed the looked that he gave her when she tried to hide the sweet and kindness in her voice. She never was good at hiding it, even when talking with enemies or scolding her dancers. Actually instead of getting angry she usual just got upset. It was a fault in her personality that she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. But she at least would try, and this one was in vain because he knew her far to well to think that was nothing but gentle. So she dropped the act. No use in doing it if all he'd do is laugh at her attempt.
Yet when she stopped he took it on himself. Around her his mood changed a lot. It kind of annoyed her a little that he did that. Either he was further making funny of her, or something he didn’t like happened. She wasn’t sure what it might be, but she had observed that whenever his mood changed for no apparent reason Nicholas usually did something that he didn’t like doing or whatever. As much as she had tried Miyu never really understand his many quirks.
She knew though that if she tried hard enough that she might be able to get out of him why he was like that. But he wasn’t like most people so she left his inner thoughts to him. This also made him quit a difficult person, because Miyu liked to be able to peoples rhymes and reasons, and his baffled her because they never seemed to be what she thought the would be.
For example: him agreeing with her and being reasonable about the time for her to tell Milly. What she was expecting to hear was that by Christmas she needed to know. Once again she was relieved and even smirked when he seemed surprised that Milly liked him. It was probably something he hadn’t been told often, a child adoring him. However what he did to get her admiration is nothing compared to what he’d have to do to get Milly to think of him as her father.
At his smirk hers became a frown. Yes she knew that there was gossip about their little girl floating around the heads of high society in Paris. Milly had told her about the people that had stared at her and whispered, plus the ballet rats, that knew about everything in the city somehow, were also talking about it. Luckily they didn’t know what the girl looked like, so Miyu could still take her to the Opera House. But now she didn’t take her down the main streets unless she was bundled up to where people wouldn’t recognize her.
It was quit troublesome to her and of coarse he wasn’t at all for him. It did show that he was serious about their daughter though, what ever the reason why might be. She knew that heirs were important when hold status, but she wasn’t sure what Nicholas thought about Milly, especially since she was a girl rather then a son. However his next…hesitant statement really surprised her. The great and terrible Gaunt was getting a Christmas tree? Miyu’s smirk returned and she had to cover her mouth to hide the giggle that she so wanted to let out. And he seemed so awkward saying it! Though she was able to suppress the laugh there was still an amused smile.
For you to do such a thing makes me think you’re a bit fond of her rather then serious. And I believe she’d love to decorate it, with pretty shimmering bows, bright glittering ornaments, and a glowing star on top.
She had to bite her tongue so she could restrain herself from continuing. With each adjective she could see a slight little twitch and him working hard not to show it. The extremely amused smile turned to a frown when he continued though. The previous assumption that she couldn’t be anger was thrown out the window. It was very controlled and could only be seen with her straightening up and while his gaze was cold hers was blazing.
That will not be necessary. My husband and I are common not poor. Milly will if she wants to. And I’ll tell her when I want to whether it’s under his scrutiny or yours!
Miyu had said it quit boldly but no one speaks against anyone close to her. She knew that Corbyn would be upset but he would never insult her or Milly. At least she didn’t think he would. And just save her skin from Nicholas from her little brashness she let him see the flicker of fear when he said he’d challenge Corbyn. That really was what she feared most at the moment. She had never seen her husband touch a sword and she swore that temper wasn’t even part of his vocabulary.
The blaze in her eyes faded and instead she was rubbing her hands while he got something from his desk. Cautiously taking the ledger she glanced in it and gave a meek nod. She knew what he was talking about, but she had never dealt with financial consultant before and she was still a bit shook up so she stayed quiet waiting for him to speak again.