Nickname(s): Plume, Madame Plume (an affectionate nickname from a dear friend)
Age (Appearance Wise): Early twenties
Age (Actual): 50
Personality: Romantic-- Ah, l’amour. In her heart of hearts, Madame Plume is a true believer in romance, and is waiting to be swept off of her feet. Some day, the right man will come along and fill her days with bliss. Until that time, Plumeria contents herself with grand gestures and beautiful surroundings. She often sees romance where none may be found, and easily convinces herself that two people are meant to join their lives together, whether that is their heart’s desire or not. I’m afraid she’s a bit of a matchmaker. However, her romantic nature does not confine itself to such things as love, and can be found in her poetry, and in the things with which she surrounds herself. Beautiful sights, beautiful words will set Plumeria’s heart a fluttering, and she takes great pleasure in the luxuries life has afforded her.
Vivacious-- Plumeria is the sole of elegance, but behind that delicate facade is a mind that is both active and full of mischief. She hides such things behind a fluttering fan and social niceties, but there can be no mistaking that Plume is a saucy creature. She loves best of all to be caught up in the throes of a heated debate, her text sweeping before her in an eloquent stream of tart responses-- each carefully designed to singe the ears of he or she who has wandered into the lady’s daintily gloved hands. Ah, but this vivacious attitude carries into all things, and I’m afraid that Plumeria is a bit flirt. She enjoys bridling those around her, as well as winning their adoration where she may. She is full of spunk and spirit.
Decorous-- Why, surely you jest! The lady is highly dignified, even when casting her lures, or sending up barbs. She is high minded, and genteel, thank you very much. There is a proper ordering to things, and as far as she is concerned, Plumeria has found it. She delights in fine social events, places where all the social niceties will be on full display and is a big believer in courtly love. A lady is meant to be won, not given away in some tawdry fashion, good heavens. It is all well and good to flirt and put on displays, but she would never be caught dead doing something indecorous.
Prideful-- She is no shy and unassuming Miss, though at times Plumeria may put on the show. She is well aware that she is an intelligent, engaging woman, and quite beautiful to boot. Not everyone was blessed with such lovely feathers, after all. She enjoys showing off, both in word and deed, and that is why she became a poet in the first place. Her ability to formulate and navigate poetry and prows is, in her opinion, her finest quality. She does not enjoy being proven wrong, and will remember quite clearly who it was who dared to cast her in the shade. Beauty, wit, and charm are meant to shine, after all, and she is very conscious of the need to be perfect-- and it is a need.
Perfectionist-- On that note, Plumeria is an extreme perfectionist, determined to hone away her flaws until they are in themselves assets and virtues. That is impossible, of course, for no being is ever without flaw, but damnit all, Plume is determined to better than that. She has very high standards, both for herself and for others, though her focus is very much on herself. Others, Plumeria thinks, cannot help that they are imperfect. It is she who must strive to chip away at every (often perceived) imperfection until her true splendor is on display.
Narcissistic-- She is, well, as vain as a peacock! (What an astonishing coincidence.) As self centered as Plumeria can be, it is often difficult for her to tell when her actions have caused another person pain or distress. She is so busy being self congratulatory that she may not have noticed that she is stepping on toes-- though that self congratulation often appears when she has ostensibly made a coup, and not simply out of nowhere. Both her physical appearance and her reputation are exceptionally important to Plume, and she goes to great lengths to maintain both. There is, in Plumeria’s opinion, nothing wrong with giving admiration where it is due, even when it comes to one’s self.
Jealous-- When a social equal has achieved something which Plumeria has not, she often finds herself suffering from fits of jealousy. Why didn’t she think of that first? And why does so and so deserve that more? Often, her jealousy throws her into a spiral of self doubt and a thorough examination of flaws and faults. After such a period, she will bitterly conclude that there was nothing wrong with her in the first place (her pride and narcissism play into this), and that it is she whose accomplishments ought to be lauded. The jealousy will persist until another distraction shows itself, whereupon all will be forgiven-- at least until that person manages to best her in some other way. Then it will all come crashing back. No slight is ever truly forgotten, merely noted down to be thrown in the (presumably) wrong doer’s face at a later date.
Melodramatic-- Even perceived slights will be treated as grave insults, terrible attacks upon her good name. Oh, how dare you! There is nothing simple, where Plumeria is concerned. No, everything must be so dreadfully elaborate, and all emotions are experienced to their fullest extent. Constantly. If you have offended Plume, be assured that you will know it. Surely there is a plot behind this or that thing that so and so said, a motivation beyond which one can by all rights ascribe to said person. When everything is wonderful, Plumeria is all smiles and in high spirits. But let anything go bad, anything at all, and she will whirl herself into a tizzy, convinced that the world has wronged her, and reparations must be made.
Thoughts on the Forest: The Forest brings both awe and trepidation to Plumeria, for she knows that she must one day journey there in her final hour. It is in the Forest where her star will finally burn itself out, Plume believes, a thought which is quite frightening and unappealing to the lady. She would do much never to have to grow old and join her fellows in the Paper Forest, but at the same time she views it with almost a reverence. After all, will it not one day house her person? Beyond such frivolous thoughts, she truly does venerate it.
Thoughts of Book Children: What silly, fanciful creatures! It is somewhat baffling to Plumeria that the Children do not at once simply understand herself and others of her kind. After all, they have always ‘spoken’ this way, have they not? How difficult is that to understand? But at the same time, their differences intrigue her, and she is quite curious to discover what may become of them. The idea of cultivating young minds appeals to her deeply. So long as they don’t ever believe themselves to be above her, mind. That would simply be improper.
Thoughts on City People: High Class City People hold the distinction of being at Plumeria’s level, a fact which contains inherent pros and cons. As her equals, they are her social peers and her rivals, and she thoroughly deplores the latter group. No one can compare to the incomparable Plume, as far as she is concerned, but there are a few who have won her admiration and loyalty. She does not truly understand the Middle and Lower classes, viewing them with a rather condescending pity. Poor creatures, unable to rise above their stations. Those that do rise are to be congratulated, of course.
Physical Appearance: Like so.
History: It was not luck or providence that brought Plumeria to her current status, to her mind. It was, instead, destiny. One fine morning in the neighborhood of Fin Magna, as a writer put his pen to paper, Plumeria appeared. Surrounded as she was from her very first moment by newly made books, the young lady took it into her heart to one day become an accomplished writer herself. The man who first discovered her was the writer in question, and he soon adopted Plumeria into his family. He and his lady love cultivated and encouraged her talent, allowing it to grow from a seed to its full florid potential.
Her great ambition was to become a poet and a writer, and to that end she studied religiously, writing line after line, attending this or that lecture in order to perfect herself and to become something. At first her successes were small things; an accolade here, a word of praise there. Then, as time wore on she realized that she had a gift for satire-- a fact which frustrated her to no end. Plume did not want to devote herself to such an indelicate pursuit.
Needless to say, she threw herself feverishly back into her studies, relentlessly seeking out forms of writing in which she fell short and working tirelessly to find her muse therein. She could not content herself with being anything less than proficient in the areas of study that her ‘parents’ had turned to. She was frustrated again and again, exhausting herself almost down to nothing. It was not to be borne that she could not achieve what her father had.
To make him proud, she needed, desperately, to find her star. Then one day as she worked furiously away at her desk, inspiration hit her with a force that left her reeling. For several days she did nothing but write, day and night, until at last all of the pieces had come together in something resembling a coherent whole. It was no great work, nor an epic such as could be found elsewhere in the Library City, but it was something. The first something that she had achieved.
From that moment on, it was as if a window had been opened in her mind, and now words flowed freely from her hand to the paper as if they had been destined to be there all along. It was not Plumeria who held the reins, but the writing itself. Each book seemed to take shape all on its own, and every poem spilled forth from her pen, filling her with a compulsion until she had finished it. It was at that time that her work truly was lauded, and, newly filled with confidence, she made her debut into society.
It was then that Plumeria discovered what she truly lived and breathed for, which was the admiration and adoration of the City People around her. Where satirical writing had not appealed, witty barbs and clever rejoinders served her well. She blossomed and flourished under what attention they (the other City People) were willing to give her; any advantage, in her opinion, was worth taking-- so long as it fell within the sphere that her parents had carefully outlined for her.
In a world without music, merriment was found instead in poetry recitation, and at last Plumeria discovered the spotlight for which she so yearned. Positive or negative, the attention of her peers was like ambrosia, and she soaked it up like a flower basking in the sun. Her favorite pastime was created here, when she attended parties and gatherings, and societal affairs. If she could only just climb the social ladder a bit more, surely she would be content! But attached to her family’s House, ensconced within the beauty of the Upper Level of the Library City, Plumeria truly cannot complain of hardship. Her has lived a somewhat charmed life, all things considered.
Hobbies: Reciting poetry, dancing, flower arranging, the language of the fan, courtly love
Birthday: February 14th
Favorite Things: Flattery, romantic gestures, flower gardens, beautiful things, excellent company, flirtations, debates, parties, dancing, poetry, admiration.
Hated Things: Rivals, wrong doers, uncouth individuals, slander, things in ill repair, being ignored, being humiliated, not holding the spotlight, ill manners.
Favorite Story: Gone With The Wind
Font:
Job: Poet/Writer
Class: High Class
Fears: Fading (both into obscurity and dying), being eclipsed, not being adored, especially small automatons (see: a lady's fear of mice, but in the Library City)
