Age: 18
Birthday: July 14
Elemental Affinity: Light
Magical Power:
Personality: Strict, both on herself and others. Highly competitive, arrogant and set in her ways. She takes her role
Occupation: Researcher/heir to the Bonnefoy Coven of Witches
Relationships:
Francis Bonnefoy: Father
Henriette Bonnefoy: Mother (Deceased)
Violette Bonnefoy: Younger Sister (Deceased)
Renée: Familiar/Maidservant
Alessa Weihen: Rival/Friend
Alma: Friend
Limbo: Annoyance
Favourites
Food: Croissants, pan-au-chocolate, tartiflette
Drink: Low fat milk
Music: Joseph-Maurice Ravel
Pastime: Studying history
Colour: Purple
Clothes: Casual wear
Weather: It doesn't matter
Person: Pére
Otherwise: Her book of names, piano music, rodents
Dislikes
Foodwise: Anything with a heavy garlic flavour, overly salty foods, soy sauce
Personwise: People who can't use magic (plebeians),
Otherwise: broken promises, Snoopy
Skills
Domestic: Good at peeling fruit and vegetables with magic.
Physical: Has a killer right hook, not afraid to fight dirty when she has to.
Mental: Truename Magic, able to recall facts well
Other: Can go without sleep for extended amounts of time (record is three days)
"Mon cherie, is zere nosing I can say to make you stay?"
"No, pére," Genevieve replied as Renée finished moving her suitcase to the large, arched front door of the Castle de Flandre. Genevieve looked confidently into her father's worried eyes. She knew that his worry was well warranted, but she had to get to the bottom of the mystery. Her pride as the heir to the Bonnefoy seat of the Shadow Council demanded it as much as her personal reasons. And though her heart beat a rapid, anxious mazurka in her chest, and though her hands were slick with a cold sweat, she wouldn't show it to her father. “Au revoir.” Genevieve curtsied deeply to her father, Renée doing the exact same motion in perfect synchrony. The rest of the servants followed suit as Genevieve and Renée left the main hall, three large suitcases floating behind them, seeming to be pulled along by their shadows. The door shut firmly behind them with a creaking slam.
The countryside seemed to crawl rather than race past the window of the taxicab. “My lady, all will be well. Gaap has spoken, and he cannot speak mistruths about such things.” All that could be done was to trust in those words, the words of a demon retold by a demon. Unlike the countryside, the days since that day seemed to race so fast that they became a blur, certain things remain vivid in her mind.
Namely, the scene that she met with when she opened the door to that room.
Namely, the faces of her mother and sister contorted in terror and pain.
Namely, the two coffins lowered into the ground.
Namely, the seal of darkness carved into the flesh of her loved ones.
Namely, the feelings locked within her chest even now.
Spreading wings tainted with a veiled thirst for revenge, she searches for truth and a friend who she had not seen for seven years.