Deviant Login Shop
 Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour


Submitted on
September 26, 2013
Image Size
2.5 MB


1,856 (7 today)
76 (who?)
LC 2nd: Jeanne by llawll LC 2nd: Jeanne by llawll

☩Name: Jeanne Thérèse

☩Gender: Female

☩Age: 23

☩Race: Human

☩Height: 5'10" / 180 cm


|Tier 2 Presbyter| - Naturally adept with this holy, Human magic, Jeanne nevertheless is capable of using it for only one very specific purpose — by calling a Miracle down from the Divine Praetors, she can imbue herself with strength beyond the bounds of her physical limits for a short time. Her legs move faster, her arms swing her sword more powerfully and more quickly, and she can take more hits without succumbing to her wounds. However, she rarely uses this magic, and prefers to fight with her own skill, preserving this for only her most difficult fights. When using this, her eyes glow a faint teal, matching the color of the runes on her blade. Beyond this, she is incapable of casting even the simplest of healing or barrier spells.

|Swordsmanship| - Despite possessing some magical skill, Jeanne rejected the idea of becoming an Exorcist completely. She much preferred to hone her ability with her sword and twin knives, relishing the idea of getting up close with the monsters she kills. Her skill has been described as "frightening" — utterly capable and deadly, but without any shred of restraint or compassion.

☩Faction: Ordo Exorcista

☩Occupation/Rank/Class: Exterminator

|Mercy| - Jeanne's enchanted greatsword, imbued with manifold layers of spells and runes that make it light to her touch, allowing her to swing it around as easily as one would swing a blade a fraction of its size. If anyone else should attempt to wield it, it would become just as heavy as it looks. Jeanne calls it Mercy, a blade that is kind to monsters and demons by relieving them of their wretched, hideous lives.

|Love and Hate| - Jeanne's twin daggers, used in place of Mercy on missions were stealth is required. They are made of the same black metal as Mercy, but are otherwise plain blades. Love's blade is sharp and true, allowing for a clean, easy cut, while Hate's blade has been allowed to chip and rust over time, making for a painful, jagged wound.

|Light Armor|

☩Character History:

Remember where bad little girls go, Jeanne. To Limbo, with all of the monsters.

Jeanne didn't know if she believed in monsters, but she certainly believed in all the much eviler things in the world. Born to a single mother who had no time or desire for a child, she was discarded into the care of a small organization in their town that took in and cared for unwanted children. Even from a young age, she showed no interest in interacting with or befriending her fellow orphans, and after their efforts were rebuffed time and again, most of the other children stopped trying. She took every opportunity she could to misbehave, and the older she got, the greater the consequences of her actions. On outings to the local market she would steal so that the blame fell on the organization's managers; she would threaten and even hurt her fellow orphans, bullying them into giving her some precious trinket or rare bauble, only to toss it away or forget about it once she had it; she managed to run away several times before getting caught and brought back.

What, after all, could they expect from a girl named after that deceiving, saintly Angel? Surely only a hateful, unwanted child could bear that name.

Time and again, she wondered why they cared so much about keeping her. If she was so much trouble, why not simply let one of her runaway attempts end in success? What did it matter to them if she starved on the street? The more she wondered, the more suspicious she got. But by that time, after almost nine years of pushing away and terrorizing all of her other peers in the shelter, not a one of them would listen to her when she came to them with her suspicions.

So she watched. And by watching, she saw. Every so often, throughout the whole of her life, kids would come and go—given to the organization or adopted away. Even more rarely, people would come and look, talking in hushed tones with the managers and disappearing behind locked doors. It was when she was ten years old that Jeanne realized that the children were not being adopted at all, but sold. Sold to every kind of horrible person imaginable—demons, humans, necromancers, mages. It was less an orphanage and more an auction house, where unwanted and forgotten children could be groomed into something worth paying for. Losing a child, letting one run away as she had, would be a loss of all the time and money they'd spent cultivating that child.

Knowing that, learning the truth, Jeanne knew there was no way she could stay there. As to the fates of the others, she didn't care, but she knew that she would not allow herself to be sold. And of course, owing to the cruel, predictable nature of fate, it was almost precisely when she made that resolution that she was chosen. Called into the office early one morning, she was confronted with two managers and a tall, older devil, heavily cloaked to disguise his nature in the human town.

He was one of the most charming, gentle people she'd ever met.

The organization, they revealed, had had trouble finding a buyer for her for years, and they'd been growing frustrated. Given her tendency for trouble and her poor temperament, no one had been interested in buying her. Dolos—the devil who'd finally shown an interest in buying her—had answered their prayers, offering a comfortable sum to take their least favorite miscreant off of their hands. That very afternoon she was packed off with her meager belongings and sent with him, and they were all glad to see her go.

Dolos, it turned out, was a modestly successful merchant in God's Reach, and he had long been looking for someone with which to share his good fortune. When Jeanne asked why he didn't just marry, or adopt a child instead of a slave, he confessed that he'd always been fascinated with humans, and sadly, the only way for a human to go about uncontested in God's Reach was as a slave. It seemed, to her, an adequate explanation—since arriving back at the demon's home city, the only humans she'd seen had been collared or poorly dressed. He did assure her, though, that she would be treated as nothing less than he would a child of his own.

And he made good on that promise. With him, Jeanne forgot her drive to rebel, her urge to frown and curse and deny the world around her. Dolos taught her to smile, taught her to laugh. He showed her books and how to read, explained the workings of his business and how to look at people and understand them at deep and intimate level, without ever having to even speak to them. When he discovered her capacity for magic, he was delighted, and he helped her study how to use it properly. Most importantly, he showed her how to use a blade—he preferred knives himself, one in each hand for quick and deadly strikes, but he let her practice with anything that held her fancy. He was the perfect father, a friend, a teacher, and she was happy to become his perfect daughter, his fascinating human pet, in return.

When Jeanne was twelve, a year and a half after coming to live with Dolos, she was returning home with some shopping when she was attacked. Who it was she couldn't say, but the last thing she was aware of was a sharp blow to the back of her head, and sudden blackness as a cloth was pulled down over her head. When next she came to, she found herself in a cell, somewhere dank and dark. It was dark, and she was alone in her cell, but she could hear shuffling around her, and as her eyes adjusted to the dark she could see that she was one in a line of cells, all occupied by hunched, haunted looking figures.

She and the others were kept there for what seemed like ages, but which was most likely only a day. When the doors opened and light spilled into the room, she discovered that it was a fighting ring. The fighters, creatures of all kinds, had been kidnapped from their rightful places, and were to be forced to fight to survive. An amusing sport for devils, who looked down on lesser creatures. Among them all, Jeanne saw that she was the only human.

Without any way to escape and return to Dolos, she had no choice but to fight. So fight she did. Round after round, she clawed and sliced her way to victory, using the few weapons they provided the contestants and what few skills she'd learned with Dolos. As she scanned the bustling crowd of lower ranking devils that attended the "event," she noticed that more and more of them were placing their bets on her. Days went by. She kept winning. Monsters and half breeds and creatures she'd never heard tale of—she went up against them all, and each time she survived to see another night.

It was in the din of cheers and jeers of her latest victory that it all started, the ending. Her head swimming from a blow to her head, a gash bleeding sluggishly above her eye, she looked up. And there, as if it were a dream, an angel picked out of the crowd. Standing front and centered, clear as cut glass amid raucous figures, was Dolos. She swayed on her feet. She smiled. She was saved.

Angels, she discovered, are all deceiving, heartless creatures.

Dolos was smiling at her as he came out into the ring, a group of six disgruntled men following along behind him. Humans, he began, talking already even before he got to her side, were such adaptable creatures. Utterly fascinating. Put a monster or a beast in the ring, and they'll do what their nature tells them to do. They will act as a monster or a beast should. But humans! They have the capacity for anything. The world's most righteous saints are not angels; its cruelest black-hearts not devils—those distinctions both belong to humans, along with everything in between. He had had a theory, he explained, smiling, his hands moving the way they did when he was excited, that a human would be the most brilliant fighter in an arena like this, and yet they were such an underused commodity. Certainly, they lacked the natural strength of beasts, or the quick intellect of elves, or the sturdiness of dwarves, but they were adaptable, and given just enough training, a human fighter in the ring would bring its owner a windfall of success.

As he spoke, Jeanne's head pounded. Perhaps it was the blow she'd suffered. Everything around her seemed slow, stunted, the ground uneven beneath her feet. Dolos's words came to hear ears as though she were underwater. She certainly felt like she were drowning.

She'd been nothing more than a pet, a curiosity, an experiment. A meal ticket. Dolos's companions, all owners of the creatures and beasts she'd defeated in the days before, started to offer bids for her sale. She stared at them, wide eyed and uncomprehending. And then, in a sudden, blessed moment, everything—everything in the whole world—narrowed down to a perfect clarity. She saw Dolos in front of her, and she had the knives in her hands.

She leapt for him.

One man got in her way, but she didn't look after him as he fell away, clutching his throat cut. For the first time, Dolos's pleased expression fell away in fear. She whirled on another man who lunged at her, trying to get her knives away from her, and relieved him of his pale devil's hands. The next one she killed just because she wanted to. But that was where she lost the element of surprise. The remaining men in the ring all lunged for her at once, and she was fell beneath them. She clawed at the face of one devil, one of the others trying to drag her hands away, and she had the satisfaction of gouging one of his eyes before her hands were restrained. Through their bodies, her eyes never left Dolos, sprawled where he'd fallen in shock several feet away.

Then an arrow went through the head of one of the devils restraining her. The others scrambled away in sudden fear, and she leapt up, grabbing her dagger from the ground. She landed on top of Dolos, sending the both of them sprawling even further into the arena. She looked down at him, her dagger held aloft and face bloody, and as his eyes widened in panic, she took a deep, calming breath. Opening her eyes, she smiled faintly.

Right before she stabbed him, she heard him whisper to himself monster.

By the time she stood up, knife still clenched in her hand like she never planned to let it go, the arena was swarming with black-clothed figures and the devil audience was scrambling out of the arena as fast as they could trip over each other. Three Executioners had been concealed in the crowd. They hadn't come for her, they explained—they'd only been sent on a reconnaissance mission to the slums on the outskirts of the city of God's Reach, spying on a the arena's shameful mix of devil and monstrous spectators—but her desperate fight had inspired enough in them that they'd deigned to help her. The rest of the demons who'd accompanied Dolos were dead, arrows sticking out of them like porcupines, or tattered birds. They offered their hand to her. Join the Order. They could use someone like her.

No, Dolos. Do not worry yourself with Limbo. I'm all the monster you have to fear right here.

Outwardly pleasant, especially to those who have only the briefest experience with her—she is always smiling as if thinking of a faintly amusing joke, and speaks in a light and cheerful way. She is, however, endlessly passive aggressive, though perhaps "passive" is too kind a word for her. Utterly ruthless and cold-blooded in her cause, she will take on any assignment given to her without question and without hesitation. However, the flowery ideals of the Ordo are all superfluous, and ultimately meaningless to her. Ridding the world of monsters is all fine and good for a goal, but she couldn't care less about creating a world better for humanity. She simply wants to kill monsters. It's not even certain to her peers that she does it because she likes it, or even because she hates monsters—as it is, she simply goes after them without complaint and without mercy. She is proud of her power, and well aware of his skills, and despite her personality, she is at least capable of putting on various airs as the situation requires, especially on more covert assignments.

- Fighting
- Challenges

- Children
- Devils
- Monsters
- Upstarts
- Weakness

- Though she usually prefers to work alone, she tags along with fellow Exterminator Quentus from time to time.
Add a Comment:
aoxxus Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
//walks into app and stares at you

we should rp one day cause

ya' know

jeannes super cool :iconleeblushplz:
llawll Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2014
yes that's a thing that should happen
//wow my reply is mad late I'm sorry about that
aoxxus Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
mad l8 bro

i'm not even in the group anymore lmao
llawll Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2014
amg :iconpapmingplz:
I'm the ultimate failure.
aoxxus Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
lol its aiight bro

hopefully i meet you in a new group 
or somethinn
Orzephlen Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
She's gotta have some buff arms to hold up that thaaaaaang :iconghettoplz:
llawll Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013
She is a STRONG lady.
The enchantments on it help, but she can swing it under her own power, too.
Ishida1694 Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2013
Q u Q one day I will be on par with your impeccable talent...
Gosh! You know without even reading the detailed and awesome story and substance you've given to this character...
I can still simply LOOK at her and... how to put it... fanboy over her X/D
as if I know her to the tee! XD
lily-kat Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2013   Digital Artist
She's so beautifuuuul
omg how are your characters so gorgeous I'm crying :iconlazepoolplz:
look at that badass huge sword aaaa /////

llawll Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2013
Beautiful AND violent :iconokie3plz:

amg I don't know they just beat me up if I'm not good enough to them
Ah yes the sword :icongendoposeplz: /love the sword

Add a Comment: