<strong>Name</strong>: Jehanne<br/><strong>Species</strong>: Human...?<br/><strong>Age</strong>: ???<br/><strong>Gender</strong>: F<br/><strong>Sexuality</strong>: Omni<br/><strong>Staff or Guest</strong>: Guest<br/><strong>Appearance</strong>: Tall, wiry, and broad-shouldered, she looks to be around thirty. There's nothing remarkable to be seen about her, except for her gold-flecked violet eyes- and the obsidian Nodachi at her back. From nape of neck to tailbone she is tattooed with small blood-red hashmarks, and they're starting to crawl down her shoulders and thighs, as well. Both her ears are multi-pierced and threaded with silver chain strung with fine charms; those who know her more intimately know her nipples are likewise linked and adorned.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Face/Body Claim</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/da/7f/3e/da7f3eae8e456358ea1d060d5f7a2675.jpg)</div></div><br/><br/><strong>Personality</strong>: Generally sociable, though prone to fits of bleakness and attacks of temper, especially when she's drunk a bit too much- which is often.  She's never drawn on anyone in the Inn, but she alternates between being admired for her ribald jokes and endless collection of stories and reviled for the sharp edge of her tongue.<br/><br/><strong>Background</strong>:  It's a fine question: who is the actual carrier of the curse, the woman or the sword? If she ever had a childhood, it's long gone, washed away by an ocean of blood and buried beneath the faces of the slain.  Jehanne remembers only two states: war, and the brief periods of peace at the Green Lion. Every time she passes out through the door, she knows it's to step onto a new battlefield, face a new champion. Triumph or, some times, die.<br/><br/>Either way, in time she walks back in through the front door of the Lion, more weary and with a new clutch of tales, if anyone wants to hear them. If she was the victor, she knows there will be another small red mark on her skin, though she stopped counting them slightly less than forever ago.<br/><br/>If she died...well, whoever killed her will be waiting for her when she steps outside again. So she drinks, and carouses, and delays, until the<em>geas</em>grows too strong to ignore.<br/><br/><strong>Ons/Offs</strong>: Jeh' is actually pretty vanilla, though she's not averse at all to getting a bit rough in the furs, and is by no means monamorous. A parade of pretty playmates is one way she staves off the terror of her existence.