Lucien Perrault
Noble Misting
Contact: Skype: Pyrosweaver
Type: Noble Misting
Age: 27
Gender: M
Place of Origin: Luthadel
Occupation: Bastard
Relationship Status: Single
Type of Powers: Misting
Metals Used: Steel
Degree of Skill: Advanced
Status: Open
A finely crafted, wool-lined leather coat serves as his primary identifiable piece of clothing, alongside a dark shirt of fine make, usually absent any form of decoration across the flat dark surface. His arms are usually exposed, no sleeves descending past his biceps, though a pair of black leather gloves often dominated his hands. The love of black, likely a direct correlation to his obsidian hair, dominates every facet of his clothing – even insofar as his leggings and thick, sturdy boots are concerned. Curiously, the Bastard seemed to shun metal – his clothing either bound by leather cords, or wooden buttons, both absent Allomantic charge.
Strengths: Lucien is, simply put, a man gifted at wasting his own gifts. He is both highly physically adept, and highly mentally capable, yet has focused purely on the former to the detriment of the latter. Despite this fact, he is a naturally talented combatant, and has mastered the use of most bladed weaponry, or is at least adept in them. Furthermore, he has a mind for mathematics and physics, and has applied this without hesitance to his Allomancy, allowing him to judge angles and required force with startling accuracy.
Weaknesses: Lucien is notorious for his lack of compassion, or rather, his tendency to forego empathy in favour of cold dismissal. This often places him into situations that are less than pleasant, and has nearly cost him his life more than once. Atop that, he has a bad habit of instigating and antagonizing the wrong people, and a very lethal case of overly zealous self-worth and pride. Perhaps a symptom of his bastard status, he is not a people person, and often finds it difficult to make lasting friendships – even when he actually tries. Furthermore, due to an unknown defect, he suffers from excruciating, near debilitating headaches and migraines at random times.
His childhood was filled with weapons training, history, and a mix of tactical and strategic tuition – both in combat and politics. Groomed more as a homegrown bodyguard for his cousin Sebastian, than a person in his own right, Lucien understandably aged with a bitter, deep-seated sense of self-loathing and hatred for the mother that spawned him, and gave him up. At the age of eleven, he was subjected to a vicious beating at the hands of the House, and Snapped as a Misting. Being a Coinshot was, in truth, one of the most fortunate realities for Lucien; who was immediately elevated in rank and relevance in the eyes of his House.
This beating, however, only solidified his cold detachment from those around him. Not a longer by any stretch, Lucien maintained a circle of ‘friends’ with whom he would often converse and spend time with, though in truth these ‘friends’ were little more than a means of avoiding the pressure that would come from gossip of him being socially inept. Due to the nature of his upbringing, he came to loath the Skaa specifically for their subservience, deeming it a sign of their own ineptitude at making their lives better. This soon evolved into a hatred that led him to treat the lower class as little more than animals.
As the years progressed, and he grew more proficient both at duelling and at social dominance, Lucien embraced the natural cunning and calculated mind he’d been gifted with. He grew into a dismissive, oftentimes ruthless man with little regard for anyone, save perhaps his immediate family, and even then only barely. Preferring to toy with the emotions of pretty noble girls, and torment the occasional Skaa with his Allomantic powers from on high, Lucien settled into a simple routine; one face for the public, one face for the House.
And his true face for the misty nights, wherein he took his joy from leaping across the city, propelled by the steel burning in his body, and the freedom of a Coinshot.
The foremost of his assailants, a reedy man lacking two teeth, and bearing an unsettling gold discolouration to the rest, gestured sharply with his knife to reinforce words he’d spoken only seconds earlier. “Go on then, lordling.” The apparent leader spat in a gravelly tone, nodding to the ground, “drop your valuable and we won’t stick you like a pig.”
“Yeah, don’t mess with us; we’re part of the resistance.” Another younger and buck-toothed Skaa chimed in, clearly the Skaa version of a sycophant, riding on the proverbial coattails of Lord scraggly-haired gold teeth.
“Shut up idiot, don’t tell him that.” Retorted scraggly, brandishing his knife threateningly at his cohort.
“Sorry boss,” replied buck-teeth, tightening his hand on his own knife, or rather, haphazardly converted shank.
“So allow me a moment to quantify this,” Lucien said boredly, looking from scraggly to his band of six misfits with thinly veiled disgust, “you and your little clique here are attempting to intimidate me into giving up my valuable possessions, using weapons that look like they’re held together by sheer luck more than quality, and then… what?” He asked with a raised ebon eyebrow, “you kill me?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Scraggly said with a nod, “so hand it over.”
“No,” Lucien said simply, suppressing a smile at the startled reactions.
“Boss, he said no.” Buck-teeth said worriedly.
“Shut up idiot, I know what he said.” Scraggly said to the younger man behind him, before turning back to Lucien. “I’m not kidding, noble. I’ll gut you like a fish.”
Lucien rolled his eyes, and sighed, finding his hopes for some sort of entertaining discourse rapidly burning up – but then again, they were skaa. “I really do detest skaa. Even the criminals are terrible quality.”
The Perrault Bastard felt the warm burn of steel in his stomach then, and focused on the blue line tying itself to the would-be mugger leader, or more specifically, to his knife. With a flex of power, he pushed on the knife with full force, not bothering to brace himself as he did. Scraggly opened his mouth to say more, and then cut off abruptly, as his knife abruptly slammed backwards into his body, and due to the angle, buried itself in his throat.
Before the other skaa could do more than stare in stunned silence, Lucien flicked his hand and threw up the seven coins he’d had in his hand, flaring steel and pushing on all seven at once. The resultant attack felled almost the entire group of six, with only buck-tooth avoiding fatal harm, but falling with a coin embedded in his right shoulder. Vexation was definitely the correct word, especially for this band of idiots. They hadn’t even had the decency to make him feel vulnerable. Part of him regretted how quickly he’d killed them; it would have been more enjoyable to cut them down, but he’d avoided taking his obsidian blade out with him in a desire for lightness.
Approaching the whimpering form of buck-teeth, Lucien peered down, noting that from the look of his features the boy couldn’t be much older than fifteen. “So young,” he murmured faintly, looking into the skaa’s fear-stricken brown eyes. A moment later, he pulled out another coin, rolling it over his knuckles. Then, after a moment of consideration, he caught it between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m going to give you mercy, little skaa.”
“R-really? You’re not going to kill me?” Buck-teeth asked in a measure of hope and relief, a spark of hope entering his gaze.
So stupid. Lucien thought to himself in disgust, and dropped the coin, pushing it through the Skaa’s forehead solidly. Of course he was going to kill him; mercy simply meant he wouldn’t draw it out. Turning away from the corpse of the foolish child, he stepped towards a bloodied coin lying in the snow, next to the bleeding corpse of one of scraggly’s other companions. I really do hate skaa.
Flaring steel, Lucien launched himself from the ground, pushing back against a keep behind him and turning the steelpush leap into a graceful, soaring arc, heading back towards Perrault territory. The terrified brown eyes stayed with him, worming into his thoughts, showing the utter lack of control the Skaa had felt over his future. Lucien grimaced at the recollection, disgusted.
Revolting vermin can’t even hold onto their own lives.
He dropped another coin, and soared forwards into the misty night.
Edited by Lucien Senus, 05 May 2015 - 09:54 AM.