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The room was lit warmly, furnished comfortably, and swathed in a general air of elegance and grandeur. Clearly, this belonged to someone of wealth, of fortune. That someone sat opposite you in a plush armchair, studying you with his pale yellow eyes. Physically, he looked like a large child, but he carried himself with the grace and maturity of an adult well into his years. He smiled amicably, snapped his fingers, and within seconds, one of his servants appeared at his side.
Fleur, show our guest to his room, the little man ordered. Fleur looked up at you with a smile that seemed forced and motioned you out of the room. As you closed the door behind you she spun around.
Get out while you still can, she intoned gravely, although the smile was still plastered across her face.
W-What? you ask, confused.
Get out, she looks as if she wants to say more but snaps back around. Each step she takes as she leads you to your room is grating, almost as if she's fighting against some unseen force. Get out while you still can... her words echo in your head; you can't shake the seriousness of her voice, the artificial smile, the hollow eyes. And yet, what did she mean? What was there to be wary of?
Name: Fleuriza
Why are you still here?! she demanded in the loudest whisper she could muster.
You stared blankly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. It was still pitch-black outside; you couldn't have been asleep for more than two hours.
Well? she demanded.
I'm sorry, but what is it exactly that I'm meant to be frightened of?
She sighed, sitting down on the foot of your bed. I suppose I'll have to go through the whole thing, eh? Well, listen up, because I don't like to repeat myself…
It seems that most stories of woe or misfortune begin on a dark and stormy night. This one is no exception. Due to circumstances I'd care not to repeat, I found myself cold, hungry, and penniless one evening. By chance, I had heard a tale of one man's exceeding generosity, so I was making my way towards his estate in search of a little charity.
She paused, her face unreadable. To think how different things would be if I hadn't… No matter. The point is, Luc gave me a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head, and a belly full of warm food. He was so kind, so selfless, that for a moment… well, for a moment, I hoped that he might grow to love me. Hah. I doubt that he's capable of genuinely caring for another creature, she snarled, her voice seething with malice. After taking a moment to calm her temper, she continued, Anyway, when I asked if I could stay the week, he said yes. I was elated at the time, but then one week grew into two, which grew to a month after that. Something inside me kept nagging me, urging me to flee, but some other nameless force prevented that. Somewhere within me, I knew that something was wrong, that I wanted to leave, but I didn't do a thing about it.
But… why couldn't you just leave? If you knew something was wrong, then why didn't you just… go?
Looking back on it now, I can see the indicators, although subtle, that he'd begun to take control of me. Hindsight is 20/20, after all. Part of Luc's genius was the delicacy with which he invaded my thoughts. Think of the transition from one season to the next; each day doesn't seem too different from the last, but the change is evident when you compare what was once there to what is there now. Do you understand? At the time, I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was what I felt, and I had begun to feel more inclined to Luc. I wanted to stay here, forever, even. I became so enthralled with Luc that, when he made his ultimate proposition, I was all too happy to oblige.
…And? What did he ask?
He asked me to become his doll, she paused and chuckled dryly, I know, it sounds ridiculous. Maybe you can appreciate now how wholly bewitched I was by Luc's charms; no warning flags were raised, nor did any objections form in my mind. In fact, nothing could've seemed more appealing. After I agreed -- although there wasn't really any chance that I would, or could deny -- my physical transformation took place. I can't tell you how it happened or how long it took, because a good stretch of my memory is blank. All I remember is falling asleep one evening and waking up changed. My best guess as to what happened is this: Luc must have drilled holes into my skeleton in order to allow his strings free run of my body. These metal plates on the insides of my joints, she paused, motioning to her left knee, must protect those holes from infection and, I suppose, from me. Given the chance I'd plug those holes up faster than you can blink... Regardless, after the operation I became, just as he intended, nothing more than a doll.
She stopped, staring at you expectantly as though she knew that you were fit to burst with questions and doubts. Well… I don't even know where to start. How can you expect me to believe this? How are you even able to tell me this if you're being controlled? I just…
Over time, I began to regain some semblance of independence. I've always been strong-willed… I suppose something in my subconscious would not let me yield to Luc's influences. Physically, yes, I'm still very much at his mercy, but my mind is at least my own. As for the plausibility of this whole tale, well, I don't blame you for doubting me. I would, too. Luc seems so gentle, doesn't he? There's a room somewhere in this mansion full of old, discarded toys; these toys used to be creatures just like me who, when they ceased to entertain Luc, were put out of commission. If you find this room, I doubt that your doubts will remain.
Something in the gravity of her voice allayed your suspicions; she seemed to be telling the truth.
I should go. Please, please heed my advice and get out of here while you can. He may look like a child, but Luc has none of a child's innocence, none of a child's naiveté. Get gone by morning or we'll be seeing a lot more of each other.
T-thank you.
Go, she moved silently towards the door, and without a second glance, left the room. Had this all been a very, very bizarre dream? You were wide awake now; there was no hope of getting back to sleep, so you got out of bed, determined to see if Fleur's story was true or not.
Fleur used to be a dancer before she met Luc, so she takes pleasure in watching (and practicing) any sort of dance. Similarly, she loves music and art, particularly abstract works. As she is subject to Luc's whims the majority of the time, Fleur takes great pleasure in defying him any way she can. 
This includes, but is not limited to, keeping others from joining his collection of living dolls.
I was inspired by a number of things to create this character. Her name, in combination with the UC plushie techo look, immediately brought the idea of a French marionette doll to mind. I wasn't entirely happy with that concept as a whole, so I started to fine tune it. Originally I was toying with the notion of having one of my existing pets act as her puppeteer, but quickly found that none of my pets seemed appropriate for the role. Then I remembered an application I'd seen a while ago in which the pet and the petpet were very much interrelated. Normally, petpets seem to just be decorations; bits of flair that don't really have much to do with the neopet itself. Well, I've always liked the idea of the petpet having a character of his or her own -- thus, Luc was born and the rest, as they say, is history.
Fleur, even before she met Luc, was a lithe and wiry creature. Years of dance had left her with both incredible flexibility and incredible poise. Post-Luc, Fleur has retained most of those characteristics.
She is long-limbed and lean, characteristics which make her physically reminiscent of a ragdoll. Since Luc can twist her around however he wants, Fleur's limbs can now bend in ways that shouldn't physically be possible -- she has become very, very double-jointed. That said, only certain parts of her body have retained full, independent mobility. Luc's threads exert influence over her neck, arms, torso, legs, and feet, but Fleur's hands and tail are still her own.
Fleur's eyes never change shape; they are always perfectly round. It is her expressions which allow people to distinguish one emotion from the next. Similarly, Fleur's mouth can never completely open, as the corners of her lips are sealed together by a few well-placed stitches.
Fleur is a complicated creature. Before she met Luc, she 
was passionate, headstrong, and independent; she had a free spirit and disliked being tied down or forced into anything. Although she still retains some of those characteristics, her fiery nature has been watered down from years of servitude. She has grown bitter and resentful and largely distrustful of strangers. Pre-Luc, Fleur was kind and compassionate. Post-Luc, however, Fleur is quick to anger and oftentimes irrational; she finds it difficult to keep a cool head about anything.
Her relationship with Luc is peculiar. Certainly she dislikes, even loathes Luc, but relationships (especially this one) are rarely so two-dimensional. It's not unreasonable to imagine that Fleur liked (yes, like-liked) Luc when they first met; he was wealthy, charitable, and kind… at least, initially. Subconsciously, for Fleur's pride would never allow her to admit this, there are still some lingering traces of that initial attraction. Outwardly, Fleur despises her servitude and warns whoever she can against succumbing to the same fate because she wouldn't wish this on anyone else. While that reason may very well be valid, there's also a good chance that Fleur is protective of Luc (deep, deep down, mind), and jealous of anyone else who can interest him as she has for all these years. Some small part of her must enjoy being his constant companion and must not dislike her current situation as much as the rest of her does.
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| She's bald! D: | Don't like it much. | Yum pixels :D |
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| Photoshop-ified | Brown hair? | Reference sheet! |
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| By xoxheartlessxox | By okami_chan390 | By howlingwolf_1 |
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| By redtailedhawk90 | By x_baby_phat | By shalnya |
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| By l1lxbunny | By loveofhorses101 | By loveofhorses101 |
The room was lit warmly, furnished comfortably, and swathed in a general air of elegance and grandeur. Clearly, this belonged to someone of wealth, of fortune. That someone sat opposite you in a plush armchair, studying you with his pale yellow eyes. Physically, he looked like a large child, but he carried himself with the grace and maturity of an adult well into his years. He smiled amicably, snapped his fingers, and within seconds, one of his servants appeared at his side.
Fleur, show our guest to his room, the little man ordered. Fleur looked up at you with a smile that seemed forced and motioned you out of the room. As you closed the door behind you she spun around.
Get out while you still can, she intoned gravely, although the smile was still plastered across her face.
W-What? you ask, confused.
Get out, she looks as if she wants to say more but snaps back around. Each step she takes as she leads you to your room is grating, almost as if she's fighting against some unseen force. Get out while you still can... her words echo in your head; you can't shake the seriousness of her voice, the artificial smile, the hollow eyes. And yet, what did she mean? What was there to be wary of?
Name: Lucas
A room full of discarded toys, toys that used to be alive… your curiosity was understandably piqued. As quietly as you could, you wound your way through the corridors of Luc's mansion, testing each door with the gentlest of touches. After you had searched the twenty-seventh room without any luck, you were about ready to give up and chalk Fleur's story up to mere fantasy. You began to make your way back to your room when you decided, just for the heck of it, to try door number twenty-eight. The handle was stiff from severe disuse, but with a little coaxing, you eased it open. You entered the room, flipped on the lights, and gasped. Lining all four walls were shelves from floor to ceiling; on those shelves were toys and stuffed animals of all sizes and shapes. Each toy looked eerily lifelike, and each wore an expression that seemed frightened and pained.
I see Fleur has spoken with you,
Don't worry, he crooned, I'm not looking to add to my collection. She keeps me sufficiently entertained. he paused, moving to the nearest shelf to examine a dusty old rabbit.
Nor am I angry with you; curiosity, however brash, is one of man's most basic instincts. What I will not tolerate, however, he paused again, turning his pale yellow eyes back to you, is you breathing a word of this to anyone outside of this estate. I do not anger easily, my friend, but when I do… he trailed off artfully, a playful smile curling his lips.
There was nothing childlike about this man, and yet, you couldn't yet take Fleur's story seriously. Luc, seeming to sense your disbelief, laughed,
Don't believe I'm capable of anger, of rage? Well, I suppose I'll have to tell you about myself, if only to ensure that none of this leaves my house. I dare say you'll find me much more frightening once I'm through with my tale. Sit. This will take some time.
Fleur came to my doorstep one evening several years ago. She hadn't a penny to her name; she was cold, hungry, and distressed -- something about a cheating boyfriend, I can't quite remember the details. Naturally, I let her stay the night. She intrigued me; for all of her misfortune, her head was held stubbornly high. She was a proud, defiant thing with a fiery spirit the likes of which I hadn't encountered in quite some time. I knew that I had to have her, that she would keep me well entertained. Ah, I seem to have started my story in the wrong place. Let me backtrack. Ever since a young age, I've been aware that I have in my possession a most peculiar power. The long and short of it is that I can control people, manipulate them, and bend them to my will. It's almost as if, well, I'm the puppeteer and they are my marionettes. Hmm… a demonstration is always a much better way to illustrate what I mean, he held out his right hand, and within a second, you felt a tickling sensation on your left arm. The sensation crept higher and higher until it reached the crest of your head; without warning, you felt your head jerk left, then right, and then up. Luc laughed gleefully and relaxed his hold.
You see? These strings that come from my hands are so fine that they're nigh invisible, yet so strong that, your head jerked down, well, you get the picture.
You gulped, sweat beading down the back of your neck. It was now plainly obvious that Fleur hadn't been joking.
Ah, where was I? That's right. Fleur gladly accepted my charity, and I sensed that she was slightly enamored with me, even without my provocation. That made my task all the easier. Over time – six, perhaps seven months – I began to invade her thoughts. Slowly, surely, she became my devoted attendant. The mind is so incredibly pliable, so vulnerable, that it took nearly no effort on my part to convince her to become a permanent addition to my collection. Man is such a fragile creature… I suppose it is a basic instinct to seek protection or comfort with those who are powerful or secure. Hah. Here I am talking philosophy! I've always had trouble staying on topic. he laughed, Now, where was I? Ah, yes. By the time I popped the question, so to speak, Fleur couldn't have been happier. I suspect that she had genuine feelings for me -- imagine that! another laugh, although this one was mirthless.
You're sick. you were surprised to hear your own voice. Up until now you'd been too terrified to speak but, in a rush of compassion for Fleur, you had become emboldened. This only seemed to amuse, but not phase, Luc.
Oh? Am I now? Well, I've been called worse, so you'll forgive me if I'm not deeply offended. His smile vanished and his tone changed, What I am offended by, however, is your sheer gall. How dare you interrupt me?! Your head was pushed downwards suddenly, leaving you with a lovely view of the floor. As you sensed the quiet fury in Luc's voice, your own voice retreated deep into the recesses of your throat.
Now keep quiet. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's impudence. Where was I? You've made me lose my train of thought. Your head was forced lower, your nose wiping a path through the dust on the floor. A spasm of pain erupted down your spine.
As I was saying, Fleur didn't take much convincing. I began on her physical transformation with gusto. Although painful, she was knocked out on some high-dosage anesthetics for the entire operation. I drilled holes into her skeleton to serve as entry points for my threads; through these I'd have complete control of her body. The metal plates? Those are largely for vanity's sake. She looks so... doll-like with those, wouldn't you agree? He paused. You imagined that he was grinning wildly, but since your nose was pressed to the floor, your imagination was all that you had to rely on.
Six, seven months after the procedure began, my pet was completed. I allowed her to regain control over her mind, however. It just wouldn't be as fun if she was completely complacent, would it? Ah, I suppose that's what you meant by calling me sick. You felt the hold on your head relax and, without waiting for Luc to change his mind, you bolted for the door.
Just remember, friend. If you speak of this to anyone else, I'll know, and I won't hesitate to add you to my ever-expanding collection. He called after you as you bolted down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the mansion. You must have been running for a good fifteen minutes before you stopped and looked over your shoulder. All you could see was the very top of the roof of the house.
Standing at around 4'6", Luc very much resembles a large child. Whereas Fleur is long and lean, Luc is short and stout. What looks like baby fat is just pudge accumulated from years of no exercise and too many cookies. Do not, do not, do NOT mention to Luc the resemblance between him and a child -- his temper is frightening.
Like all Wains, Luc has two short, curved horns and a crescent moon marking on his forehead. Also like all Wains, Luc's sclera are black as opposed to white and his eyes themselves are pupil-less. Luc is most often seen wearing a half-smile on his face and carrying a raggedy old bear in his left hand.
You put it best yourself; Luc is sick. Oftentimes it's more comforting to find reasons why someone is the way they are, but with Luc, no such reasons exist. He just is.
Since a young age, Luc used stuffed toys as substitutes for live, breathing companions. Even as a child he was exceedingly arrogant, and he disdained associating with anyone who he deemed as beneath him, both on an intellectual and material level (Luc was born into wealth and is scornful of the poor). He is smart, but his intelligence isn't the kind that you develop from years of studying books; his is the sort of street-smarts that some kids are just born with.
As is evidenced by his relationship with Fleur, Luc enjoys manipulating other people. It's not uncommon to hear Luc disparage the fragility of the mind of man, as though his mind is something superior; as though he is something superior. Is it a god complex? Perhaps. But it may also just be his excessive hubris.
Fleur is perhaps the closest thing Luc will know to a friend, to love. He certainly admires something in Fleur (perhaps her fierce, combative nature) enough to have kept her around for all these years. And yet, that admiration will never translate into genuine affection. Emotionally, Luc is still very much a child in certain areas. He can't understand complex emotions like love or fear, and when he is pushed too far, it takes him days to regain control of his temper.
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| Help that poor bear | A work in progress | Reference sheet! |
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| By l1lxbunny |
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