Age: 22

Family: FATHER:
Jean Lucien Esthero

MOTHER:
Aubergine Esthero

SISTERS:
Francesca Esthero (older)
Rosaline Esthero (older)
Marie Esthero (younger)
Judith Esthero (younger)
Lauraine Esthero (younger)

BROTHERS:
Robert Esthero (older)
Daniel Esthero (older)

Gender: Female

Sexual Preference: Straight

Species: Gifted Telepathic Human (pending)

Appearance: Raw, Cloche isn’t exactly what you would call the most beautiful creature on the planet.

Personality: Rien qu’une gitane, une sauvage…

Some call her savage, others call her worthless, and others still forget to allocate her a name; but the girl in rags and animals skins certainly has a name, no matter how little known it is; Cloche, and she carries it with something resembling pride, yet not quite so.

Fears: Fear is something Cloche has learned little of, and thereby hasn’t many too speak of. The only true fear she might ever posses, is the crippling fear that the events with her foster father would recur in some karmic revenge. She has already lost most of her voice what would be next? Surprisingly, she never developed the fear of fire that was sure to follow her after losing her voice to such a burning device, for she had to be around fire constantly, to cook food, to warm her in the winters, etc.

History: • Born to a family of simple peasants. Orphaned, mother having died in labour and father too stricken to care.
• Adopted by a family or middle class citizens.
• Father was a somewhat known blacksmith
• Brothers and sisters each having their rebellious tendencies, had them tamed with corsets and books and the like, but never really forgot their days of liberty.
• Each was married one by one into families that were neither upper class, nor lower class.
• To escape her own arranged marriage, Cloche ran from home at the tender age of 14 and was smuggled onto a ship that set sail the following day.
• She cast away the gowns and labour of life in her mediocre town, mediocre people, mediocre dreams, in favour of less cumbersome garments and more aggressive surroundings.
• After months of life in the pit of untamed forests and rivers, the ship that had brought her here set for home, charged with skins, leathers, weapons, plants and other paraphernalia cataloguing the days or work in this foreign land. Cloche boarded, ready to see her family after so long away from them.
• Upon her return home (no longer dressed in the presumptuous rags, but rather in the riches of yester year) her father is less than elated to see her.
• Currently working drunk, he stumbles, inches from the seething hot metals and inches from grave injury
• Ambling closer and closer, spit bubbles on the edge of his mouth, and he clumsily grabs a rod or iron from the fire and cast it toward his daughter with surprising strength. “T u crois revenir et me voir avec les bras ouvert? Pétase, vas! Je ne veux plus jamais te revoir! ”
• He surely meant to throw it somewhere by her head, but instead, it’s still orange-red burning end landed ever so briefly on Cloche’s neck as she exposed it looking up at him.
• Despite the fact that she had scrambled away, the damage it had already caused was irreparable.
• She ran, ran as far as she could, and once again, boarded a leaving ship, accustomed to it and its people.
• Shedding her riches, she became savage in the foreign lands where she knew not the language, nor did she care for she was mute (for all they knew).

Other: She has with her a pet of sorts, an animal probably of the wolf/dog breed, with steel blue eyes and a mixture of black white and grey muddling its pelt. She calls it Pharos.