Description

(Image was commissioned and copyrighted by me)
She has smooth, sun stained olivine skin and thick, wild hair that cascades in a shining sea of wavy chestnut coils that crest gently at the small of her back. She has eyes like the sun, a delicately rounded nose, and lush, roseate lips. Despite standing at a modest and petit height of 5'1, her frame is toned, yet sensuously sloped, with a supple swell of feminine endowments and rolling hips; an intoxicating continuance of prominent parabolae and resplendent rondures. Usually garbed in a traditional flowing gypsy skirt of sunset tainted silks, a lavender coined hipscarf, and a crimson suede bodice, laced snugly up her torso, layered over a sheer, ruffled violet chemise. Her dainty feet are strapped with sandals, and golden belled baubles and bangles adorn her ankles and wrists.

Personality

(Deja is on the right, holding the kitty)
Deja is a vibrant young gypsy girl who (with an appearance implicit of an age in the late teens) is apparently innocent, though persistently she tests the boundaries of an ebbing adolescence. Like so many gypsy maidens, she takes pleasure in making mischief anywhere she might so freely roam, almost always leaving a trail of chaos in her wake (and maybe a destructive fire or two). She never had the propensity to settle for a life of cliche norms, and it is this drive, this desire for extraordinary adventure, drama, and perhaps the prospect of a little romance that often leads Deja into situations she can't very well handle safely by herself. Anyone who interacts with the girl is likely to shortly thereafter find themselves woven into the intricate, sticky tendrils of a cruel (yet strangely comedic) fate's proverbial web.

Equipment

She carries a balisong, sheathed in a garter on her thigh, hidden within the flowing confines of her skirts, and a vial of curiously smelling, delicious potion that she keeps wherever she fancies, depending on her mood.

History

After Deja's gypsy prostitute mother died of an opium overdose, the 11 year old orphan was left to fend off a nobleman's headhunters, who were sent to kill her in a concerted effort to conceal her identity as his daughter. Deja's father married into a high social and political stature, and had conceived her after indulging in his habitual vice of fleeting affairs with random mistresses (he had a penchant for exotic types- namely, her mother). Deja fled the realm, but not before being cursed by the old gypsy witch and matron of the kumpania (family) of prostitutes to which her mother, and Deja herself was supposedly destined to belong. The witch deemed her abandonment of the kumpania- the only family that would ever truly love her- reprehensible, damning Deja to a loveless, lonely, and cold existence- literally. She was condemned to wear a lustrous amber sun pendant that she could never remove; it served as a reminder of the family she once had- the lost hope that she would ever be happy. The witch prophesied that Deja had no potential for a life beyond that of her mother's- searching desperately for true love and happiness in the arms of men. Determined to prove the witch wrong, Deja was only further motivated to leave, and find happiness and satisfaction independently. As for love....

So begins...

Deja_LaLiberte's Story

• Seen 321 Times • Page 1 of 13 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 13

Setting

Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:17:14, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"WOW! You look pritty sad, ya know dat?" The gypsy girl's lilting voice rang out in a sing-song tone, almost as if to mock (Jibraaiyl). There the tiny young thing stood, at a modest 5'1 behind the bar, barely tall enough to be seen above it. In one hand she held a champagne bottle, and in the other a stein, half full, the drink within sloshing with every exaggerated move she made. "I know juuust de ting to help wif dat." She said with an affirmative nod, before climbing on top of the bar, her diaphanous, sunset tinted silk skirts spilling about her legs as she awkwardly sank to sit atop its surface. "You like sweet tings?" Her voice was heavily accented.

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Setting

Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:27:22, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte blinked, lashes a-flutter, as she watched Jibraaiyl nearly crack his head open on the bartop. She cringed and recoiled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Eeew...you alright?" She peered at him, still visibly disturbed. "I have a feeling dat dis is not de first time you hit your head, no?" She inquired, quirking a slender brow. "Now, do you like sweet tings, or not? And...is dat gaping head wound going to br ok?"

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:27:24, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

*be

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:39:14, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte 's expression dropped flatly the very instant Jibraaiyl told her to fuck off. Her amber gaze narrowed as she watched him walk away, pursing her lips in contempt. "Oh, don't you worry. I will." For now, at least. She made a point to scrupulously survey the pitiful man as he departed, aware of the fact that he couldn't see. Well, what an opportunity he would be. BUT, for now, it was time for merry-making. She hoisted her stein to her mouth and nursed it free of the champagne, halting to breathe a satisfied sigh. She smacked her lips and averted her sunkissed sights to the rest of the occupants, observing them each in turn.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:53:04, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"You know. I haf someting dat may help your eyes." She offered matter-of-factly, seemingly satisfied with his apology. "It's not perfect but...I tink it will do de trick, at least halfway." She crawled forward on the bar until she was at eye level wit him, and then sunk down to lay on it,idly fingering a sable spiral of hair while she awaited his answer. "You want to try it? It's better dan being completely blind, no?" She inquired for good measure.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 03:53:33, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

*with

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:00:55, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte flashed Jibraaiyl a coy grin, her golden gaze sparkling with mischeivous mirth, as she deftly, and quickly withdrew a small, teardrop shaped vial from her corset. She cracked the latch-top with her thumb, and with the same hand reached for his glass. In the same swift motion that she made to slide him his beverage, she leaked two drops of the vial into it. "Oh! Here you go. And, I guess you're right, we haf to start somewhere, don't we? I'm Jezzebel. But, you can call me Bel." She'd have winked at him, but he couldn't see that, anyway.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:11:17, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"Oh. I like it rough. How did you know?" She lowered her voice to a soft croon when Jibraaiyl grabbed her hand, remarking with a playful, yet daring undertone. "Who said I was trying to make a friend?" She inquired, smirking. "You don't seem to know much about friends anyway." She added, stealing a fleeting glance at the expanse of the establishment, unable to spy much else than perhaps a casual acquaintance. "Drink it. You'll like it. Everyone does. Live a little, hm?" She nudged it closer to him, clearly trying her luck.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:28:09, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte 's grin grew wider as he slowly closed the distance between them. "Well, you know what dey say..." She interrupted herself with a slight gasp as he pulled her level with him, but followed up with a delighted giggle. She leveled her aureate amber stare upon his as she whispered, finishing her original thought. "Keep your friends close," she reached for the glass, dipping her fingertips in it. Dripping with the drink, she reached up to soaked her own plush, pink lips with the liquor. "But keep your enemies closer." And with that she finished the business of closing the gap, dangerously close to her face.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:29:06, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

*soak

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:29:32, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

*his

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 04:44:51, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"Dat all depends on what's at stake, no?" She said pointedly. "I know what de potion does, and de fact dat I already put it on my own lips should speak volumes, so that we..." she hooked a svelte finger on the neckline of whatever he was wearing, suggestively tugging on it, "...no longer have to." She licked her lips, though the scent of the serum still lingered, seeming to grow all the more enticing the longer the moment stretched on. "You might soon realize dat it's not always what you see dat is valuable, it's what you feel." She turned her face slightly and crawled one more inch forward, whispering in his ear, "But I can give you each..."

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 05:02:17, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

She pursed her lips against his thumb before she teased, "I take it you mastered de art of holding back?" Withdrawing, she briefly studied his face, examining his eyes for a possible clue as to what could have rendered him bereft of sight. "You tink dat speaking freely is a sign of weakness, but we can disagree about dat, so long as we agree dat well done is better den well said." She reached up to cradle his face in the soft palms of her dainty hands before she pressed her supple lips tenderly to his, engaging him in a chaste, but passionate liplock.

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Setting

Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 05:17:55, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Unable to help herself, she melted into the kiss, the effects of the serum having saturated her consciousness. She no longer posessed the will to resist much, obliged to perch contentedly in his lap. She nestled closer, reveling in his warmth- she seemed strangely cold; too warm to be anything other than human, but too cold to be easily classified as such. If Jibraaiyl was susceptible to the potion, his vision should, at that point, have begun to slowly manifest- blurry and grainy at best. Curiously though, the only thing he would be able to see is her, and perhaps a few inches around her, but that was it. "How come you can't see?"

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 05:37:02, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

She blushed a bit when he draped his coat over her bare shoulders. As appreciative as she was of the compassionate gesture, she knew it wouldn't help. Bittersweet though it was, it was still sweet. That was better than simply bitter, wasn't it? She grinned when she noticed that his vision was vaguely returning. Happy to acquiesce to his request, she drew closer still- the theme of the night. "It will wear off shortly. Maybe in an hour or two." She felt obligated to remind him that the emotions were anything but organic. "Don't tank me just yet." She chuckled. She halfway wondered how irritated he would be once he sobered up. He was certainly cute when he was angry, though...

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 05:56:04, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte reveled in the silence that seeped into the interaction, losing herself in her own wonders and what-ifs, until he scooped her up and haphazardly tumbled into a booth. She blinked, clinging desperately to him every step of the way, and braced herself for the fall, swallowing the frightened squeak that threatened to make her look pitifully pathetic. She lay in the same position in which they landed, quietly mulling the situatio over in her mind. Gradually, worry crept into the pristine picture, charring the moment. "I have to warn you- the potion is addicting." Much like love itself, the euphoric feeling was hard to not want.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 05:56:25, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

*situation

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 06:17:57, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte knew what was yet to come, so, although his words were pleasant, she knew they were only half truths. She watched him sit upright, and she leaned back on her elbows, propping herself up. Scintillating sable spirals of hair cascaded over her bare, narrow shoulders, shrouding her in a cloak of shiny, dark curls. "I didn't say anyting, so I can't tell you what I mean, can I?" She giggled at him as he sobered, enchanted by the almost bi-polar shift in behavior. "I tink de potion is wearing off. Don't worry, you shouldn't get a hangover."

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Setting

Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 06:33:08, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte frowned, shifting her weight to sit straight up in the seat of the booth while he regressed, resorting to the silly antics that got him into so much trouble in the first place. "I liked you better drugged, you know dat?" She wouldn't dream of drugging him any more, however; he 'crashed' particularly heavily. "You are just withdrawing. And might I remind you dat you kissed me of your own...how you say...desire?" She sighed. "You should get a cane, and stop hurting yourself."

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 06:44:38, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte couldn't help but laugh at his response. She nodded, "It's not de first time I heard dat." She heaved a sigh and rose to her feet, saunting over to him, her skirts a-flutter about her slender legs, the bells that adorned her ankles chiming with every step. She paused at his side, and bent down to clasp his hands in her small, but firm grasp. With a grunt, she made a concerted effort to hoist him up- at 5'1 and 100 lbs even, she was only meant as a form of assistance, certainly not supplement.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 06:58:14, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte hesitated as he snaked his arms around her narrow waist, reluctant to engage in that kind of amorous interaction again. She shied away, but didn't abandon his grasp. For lack of something witty to say, she asked him once more, "Why can't you see?"

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 07:11:39, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"Did you try to find a cure yet?" She asked, pursing her lips as she considered his predicament. She wanted to help, but this was only her second day in the realm, so she had no idea where to begin. Deja never turned down the chance to discover or explore anything, so she certainly wasn't opposed to quest for the cure, if need be. "I'd offer you more potion, but dat won't get you anywhere useful." She giggled.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 07:22:27, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"I could let you have more but...is dat really what you want? I don't tink it will help. I tink you need sleep. Tomorrow, maybe we can look for a cure..." Her expression softened when he tilted her chin again. She could have withdrawn, but she didn't. She did blush a bit, though. "I don't want poison to be de reason for you enjoying my company." She chuckled.

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Setting

Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 07:44:05, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

Deja_LaLiberte blinked, surprised as he whispered, leaning in. She blushed at the compliment, feeling her face grow hot under the gaze he didn't have. As he drew nearer, she hesitated, biting her lip. All the more lucky she did, because he didn't seem to have had the intent to kiss her anyway. When he leaned back she eased a sigh of...almost relief. "Yes..." Was all she could manage to say.

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Gambit's Bar

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#2012-02-20 07:52:18, as written by Omicron Entelexeia

"I didn't say dat. I just don't want..." She trailed off. "Forget it. I need to sleep, I'm tired." She rubbed her eyes, slumping forward a bit. "Tomorrow we can look for a way to fix your sight, no?" She suggested, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze. Truth be told (and it wouldn't be told), she was worried that the potion had altered his perspective of her- it was one residual side effect that was hard to shake- the fact that it had created a real experience, regardless of the trigger, that would leave a lasting impression on those who consumed it without thorough understanding of its effects.

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• Seen 321 Times • Page 1 of 13 • 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 13