Gabrielle Beaumont
From Inga no Kusari wiki
| Beaumont, Gabrielle ♀ | |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth | 13th March, 1976 (36) |
| Place of Birth | Lyon, France |
| Zanpakutō | Asauchi |
| Player | Gabrielle |
| Shinigami | |
Contents |
Appearance
Gabrielle, while shorter than most of her peers, appeared to be an average college student while alive, caught in the threshold between teenager and adult. Her hobby, tennis, kept her reasonably fit and in relatively good health; traits that passed on to her spiritual form after her accident. Her appearance has remained mostly unchanged since her arrival to Soul Society; while she no longer practices any sports, her training and, more recently, duties as a Shinigami have kept her active.
Her hair is a dark shade of brown, coming down to just above her shoulder blades when loose. She usually keeps it tied back in a ponytail, particularly while working or training; while at home or relaxing, however, she prefers to let her hair down, as she finds the hairstyle uncomfortable. She wears a lavender butterfly barrette near the back of her head.
Her eyes are a lighter shade of brown; being curious, they're often in constant motion as she observes her surroundings, particularly when she visits places she's never been to before. She finds it hard to hold eye contact with people, and often avoids staring directly at them, choosing spots just above or below their eyes to focus on as she speaks.
While idle, she often plays with her hair, running her fingers through it when loose, or reaching back to touch her ponytail. It often takes her a conscious effort to keep her hands at her side. She also places more weight on a single leg while standing still, swaying slightly in place as she shifts weight from one leg to the other. When nervous, she licks her lips often, and might speak faster than usual, causing her to trip over her own words.
She is very meticulous with her uniform; her shitagi, kosode and hakama are kept tightly tied and as spotless as possible. Her obi is the one indulgence she has allowed herself; instead of the usual, loose knot, she ties it into a tightly-packed loop that vaguely resembles a flower.
Personality
Gabrielle is slightly perfectionist, and detests leaving tasks incomplete or poorly done; she feels uncomfortable if forced to leave one unfinished. While it is not quite an obsession, she does feel the need to give her best attempt at every opportunity, and therefore pushes herself to attempt to become better at her interests. Conversely, she is very reluctant to even try out those activities she finds boring or not worthy of attention, and will rarely apply herself to them, resulting in poor performance; somewhat in contrast with her perfectionist nature, she just can't bring herself to care enough for such endeavors.
In life, playing the piano was her greatest passion, the one true calling to which she devoted her entire self. Her love for heartfelt melodies spurred her onwards, enough to persuade her to enroll as a student at college. Tennis was once, too, another important piece of her life, albeit to a lesser degree. It was just a hobby, but one she was passionate about, even if she never dedicated as much time to it as to her music. Very occasionally, she engaged herself in reading as well, diving into the worlds described by the texts; while it was rare for her to find a book she really enjoyed, those she did were worn and stained from use, having been read over and over again.
Sadly, all of her previous interests vanished after her death, along with the memories of her human life. She looks with disinterest upon most forms of art now, focusing solely on her training and her job as Shinigami. Music still stirs her soul, however, calling out, taunting her with what she lost. She still hasn't brought herself to try it, though, and constantly finds small excuses for herself to avoid doing so, believing that taking up a hobby could interfere with her job.
Intensely focused on her new career, Gabrielle tries to inspire her fellow Shinigami to apply themselves as well, and try their best. In contrast with her living self, she actively attempts to force people to follow her example, constantly prodding and asking innocently-phrased questions to keep her peers from what she perceives as slacking off. While she does not wish to admit it to herself, and has buried the fact deep within her subconscious, she does so not out of a desire to help the Shinigami forces grow stronger, but because she seeks to validate her own efforts. Deep down, buried in a corner of her soul, a selfish part of her believes that if her fellow Shinigami experience how hard she finds it to apply herself so much every day, they will come to appreciate her more. Ironically, her efforts have had the opposite effect; she has been unable to form a lasting friendship with anyone since arriving at Rukongai, and even the family that adopted her after her arrival has grown distant, pushed away by her attitude.
Gabrielle has self-esteem issues concerning her status as a Shinigami; she does not believe herself worthy of the title, having cheated to obtain it. She, who has always believed in the value of hard work, feels enormous guilt over that incident, and still experiences nightmares occasionally. Perhaps, buried in her mind, her dedication is also an attempt to persuade herself that she does deserve to join the soul reapers. She is easily angered when her status as a Shinigami is called into question, and the thought of someone discovering her fraud is one of her greatest fears.
She has found, to her alarm, that she can't hold her emotions in check properly while fighting. As the battle progresses, her mind refuses to accept that she has not being able to overwhelm her opponent, that the enemy might be more skilled than her, and she grows angry. After a certain threshold, her control snaps, and she is overcome by a desire to hurt the opponent; to defeat them in the most harmful, destructive way she can imagine at the moment. Part of her finds this state enjoyable; the rage that fills her, eliminating her constant doubts and chasing away other undesirable emotions, is somewhat addictive. The feeling scares her, though, and she tries to hold it back, ending her encounters as quickly as possible before it overtakes her.
While fighting, she tries to focus on delivering a single fast, devastating attack to a critical point the instant the opponent opens its guard, relying more on speed and misdirection rather than on sheer strength.
History
Gabrielle was born in the city of Lyon, one of the largest population centers in France. The youngest child of three siblings, she initially felt the need to prove herself as capable as her two older brothers, both outstanding students in their school. Feeling no rivalry towards their little sister, however, the two of them, along with their parents, encouraged her in her studies. The young girl realized quickly that she didn't have to compete with her siblings for her parents' affection, and outgrew her obsession with ease.
She tried out tennis an afternoon after school, joining a recreation group with a friend, and immediately fell in love with the sport; she attended classes once a week, finding in it a reprieve from accumulated stress and a great place to have fun with other people. It was not until a few years later, however, that she found her true calling. Students were offered extra credit for taking up cultural activities, and Gabrielle, unable to resist the lure, signed up for the music group. The class proved to be largely disappointing; the professor rarely arrived, and the students were often asked to write small essays on contemporary groups. The other ten-year-olds were happy with the arrangement; the assignments were easy, and they had extra free time more often than not. Gabrielle, while happy herself, was left with a bittersweet taste in her mouth; part of her had always been curious about music, and she had honestly expected more from the class. It wasn't until months later that the teacher, during one of her isolated, uncommon lectures, presented to the students a video of Ruth Laredo's piano solo debut at the Carnegie Hall. Captivated by the flow of music, she begged her professor for a copy of the video, and often besieged her with inquiries, desperate to learn how to play herself. The teacher, exasperated, referred her to the Académie Musicale Crescendo, where Gabrielle eagerly enrolled in piano lessons.
Throughout the following years, she remained devoted to the instrument, attending summer camps with other children during vacations. As she grew in skill, her playing began to slowly shift from horrible cacophonies to beautiful music; her parents, initially believing her to have no talent for the instrument, watched on with pride as she slowly refined her songs. It was two years later, during Christmas Eve, that she happened to catch a glimpse of an enormous box, wrapped in colorful paper, being brought into the house by her father just before bedtime. That Christmas, when she received her very own piano, was one of the happiest of her life; the instrument was too large for her small hands, and she had to struggle to reach both the pedals and the furthest notes, but her eyes could find no flaw with it. She eagerly looked forward to her practice sessions each day at home. As the years passed and high school grew more demanding, her grades slipped slightly; though still above average, she preferred to dedicate her time to music. Her parents, while not completely happy with the change, did not reprimand her too strongly, and proposed several colleges at which she could pursue her art after graduating. Gabrielle instantly settled her focus on the Lumière University, located in Lyon as well; at her parents' insistent admonishments, however, she also sent applications to several other institutions.
It was indeed fortunate that she chose to follow her parents' advice; her grades were just below the cut required by Lumière, and she was denied entrance. However, they were enough to grant her admission to Le Mirail; while it was a prestigious and respected institution, the university was located in Toulouse, far from her home. Nervous about having to room with a stranger on the campus, and being so far away from her family and friends, she departed for the city, leaving Lyon behind. The assignments were hard, and it was truly a challenge to keep up with some of her peers; however, she was happy, knowing that she was dedicating herself to something she loved.
It was during her fourth year at college that disaster struck, during the summer of 1997. Gabrielle's roommate, a history student, invited her to an end-of-term party. Having passed the finals, she agreed hesitantly; she enjoyed spending time with her friends and, having lived with the other girl for so long, had developed a close friendship with her as well. However, she had never been much of a party-goer, and was rather nervous about meeting so many strangers at once.
The fateful night arrived quickly; the party was just two blocks away, and the two of them walked over, not wanting to go through the hassle of taking a vehicle to such a close destination. To her dismay, she discovered that the only person she knew at the celebration was her roommate. She tried to talk to some of the other attendees, but most conversations ended quickly and politely, and her friend was nowhere in sight. Feeling bored and uncomfortable with the amount of alcohol being consumed, she headed towards the exit, only to feel a strong grip on her forearm.
Turning around, filled with dread, she saw her roommate; her face was flushed, and the girl's fingers were wrapped tightly around Gabrielle's arm. Her other hand held a glass of wine, filled to the brim with a rich, crimson liquid. Her words were barely recognizable, but she kept pushing the glass towards her insistently, smiling vaguely. Worried about her, Gabrielle thought that it'd be best to go along with the other girl for a little while, and leave unnoticed as soon as they could. With that plan in mind, she took the glass from her hand and sipped it, wincing as the strong taste burned her throat. It proved to be a mistake; her roommate clapped her hands excitedly and led her towards a table, where a group of ten rowdy students were noisily playing drinking games. Noticing the new arrival, they all insisted that Gabrielle should join them, pushing several beverages towards the befuddled musician who, in her confusion, could only nod politely and smile, waiting for the first opportunity to leave. One glass became two, and two turned into four, and soon she had joined the group in their laughter and games, her plan forgotten.
As the party grew to a close a few hours later and the other people began to leave, her friend stood up, now looking slightly better. The other girl had abstained from drinking after bringing Gabrielle over to the table, but the piano student had not shown such restraint. Giggling uncontrollably, she stood as well, knocking over her chair in the process, and headed unsteadily for the door. As the two of them stepped into the sidewalk, she ran forward excitedly towards the street, not noticing the approaching delivery truck until it was too late. Her eyes widened an instant before the vehicle, traveling well beyond the speed limit, impacted her body, and the world went dark.
The first thing she noticed as she opened her eyes was the light. Squinting, she held up her hand to block the bright glare of the sun, grimacing as her head throbbed painfully. Slightly dazed, she looked around and stood up slowly; the sound of metal bits clinking cheerfully against each other filled the air for a moment, and she looked down to see a chain trailing down from her chest to the ground, broken at the opposite end. Her heartbeat accelerated for a moment as dread filled her, yet there was nothing that should cause that reaction nearby. She shook her head slowly, trying to clear away the cobwebs that seemed to fill it, yet only succeeded in making the pain worse. The buildings around her seemed unfamiliar, as did the asphalt beneath her feet. An iron gate stood to her side, and a red booth of some sort could be seen across the street, its purpose unknown. She focused, trying to gather her thoughts, yet none came to her; she had no idea of where she was, or what she was doing in this place. All she could recall was her name; she was Gabrielle Beaumont. She felt oddly calm; the panic that she expected to accompany such a realization failed to come, and she shrugged nonchalantly.
Almost as if through a haze, new figures and objects began to materialize around her. A large, white vehicle appeared a few meters away, with a cross painted in bright red on either side; two people in blue uniforms, wearing funny hats, held a multitude of students at bay from a spot on the street. Curious, she moved towards it, idly noticing that the uniformed men didn't try to stop her, even with the chain trailing behind her on the ground. Lying at the center of the spot was a girl, her left arm bent at an awkward angle, covered in bruises. A woman with a grey uniform knelt on the floor, placing a plastic tube into the younger girl's mouth with care; yet, for some reason, she knew immediately that it was too late. She turned around, heading away from the crowd; the dead girl unnerved her, and she wanted to get away as quickly as possible. She stepped away easily, none of the people seeming to notice neither her arrival nor her departure.
None except one.
A girl with black, messy hair stared in shock at her, her face streaked with tears, frozen on the sidewalk. "Gabby? Gabrielle, is that you? You're not hurt! Thank heavens!" Her voice trembled as she broke out into sobs, rushing towards the perplexed soul and embracing her tightly. "Gabby, I'm so sorry, I didn't expect there'd be so much drinking going on, I never saw that truck coming, I swear, it was all over so fast..." The girl trailed off, her body trembling, and Gabrielle returned the hug awkwardly; perhaps the girl knew her? The wind picked up speed, and the old-fashioned sign of the building next to her creaked ominously as it swung back and forth on rusted chains. She glanced at the window; it looked like a shop of some sort, with beautiful necklaces on display. The light was not bright enough to obscure the murky reflection of two girls, both strangers, one of which stared straight back at her. Mystified, she raised her hand, and saw the image do the same, her long brown hair shifting loosely behind her. The other girl looked at her, puzzled, releasing her from the embrace as she stepped away a few paces, and Gabrielle moved closer to the window, enraptured. The girl in the reflection was very similar to the one she had seen die earlier on the street; in fact, they even appeared to be the same person. She pursed her lips, thoughtful, lifting the chain that trailed from her chest on her right hand. The metal felt cold, yet it seemed to be polished and free of rust. That was strange; none of the other people she had seen so far had a chain. Why did she?
The black haired girl screamed, pointing at the soul, her face a mask of horror. Gabrielle recoiled, swallowing nervously as she dropped the chain back to the ground; perhaps she had scared the other girl somehow? She opened her mouth to apologize, and felt her left hand being grabbed tightly before a strong pull threw her off balance, forcefully turning her around. Her eyes widened in panic as she saw a young man, clad in black robes, holding a sword menacefully as he grinned. "Hey, now, no causing trouble. Jewelry is pretty and all, but you can't take it to the afterlife anyways, you know. Geez, stopping thieving souls is so not on the job description!" His eyes turned towards the screaming girl, who fell instantly quiet, and he sighed dramatically. "Ugh, a seer? How much bad luck can you have in a day, anyways?" The sword lowered for an instant as the man rummaged inside his robes, releasing Gabrielle's wrist, and she considered running away; she might be able to escape if she tried, but what about the other girl? Before she could ponder her choice further, however, his hand came out again, holding a small, rectangular object, and the opportunity was gone. He extended it forward, holding it at eye level before the two girls. "Now, I'm told this doesn't hurt at all, just hold...whoa!" The man recoiled in surprise as a bird's head unexpectedly popped out on a spring, accompanied by a puff of smoke; Gabrielle winced as her headache worsened, becoming unbearable for a moment. Her head seemed to throb as the migraine faded away slowly, and she took a deep, ragged breath, blinking, disoriented for a moment. "Huh, I guess that worked. Who would've guessed!" The soul reaper chuckled nervously for a moment, before turning his attention back towards her, raising his sword. "Now, stand still, this won't take long." She felt her muscles lock up as she froze in place, terrified, watching the blade ascend. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see it falling towards her, and felt something hard and cold being pressed against her forehead before blacking out once more.
When she next came to, she found herself standing on a dirt road; the sun was high in the sky now, and the busy street was filled with people dressed in strange, dirty clothing. One or two spared a glance at her, nodding in acknowledgement before brushing past, yet the rest seemed not to care as they went about their business. Tall, wooden buildings surrounded her, unlit oil lamps hanging from the doors. She wandered around aimlessly, yet the small, rustic town seemed to have little of interest; small warehouses filled it, along with several quiet, small houses and rowdy taverns.
The fifty-third district of Rukongai, where she had been assigned, had established itself as a storage center for other nearby districts, retaining the product of other people's labour before they could be shipped away to their destinations. A few enterprising individuals had managed to take advantage of the situation, charging storage fees, and owned some of the larger houses. The majority of the population, however, was lazy and unambitious, perfectly happy to idly spend their days away and help occasionally with packing goods inside whichever warehouse offered shelter to them. One of these families, who had taken up residence in one of the smaller, emptier warehouses, adopted the girl; the group contained at least twenty people of different ages, but they seemed rather friendly, and cared greatly for each other. Happy to find a place to sleep in, even if it was just a stone floor, Gabrielle dove with enthusiasm into her new job, at least at the beginning. Her family's sloth frustrated her, however; she looked on with jealousy as the owners of the storehouse paraded past each morning, able to afford daily meals and wearing expensive clothes.
Days turned into months, and she still saw no reward for her efforts; there was only so much she could do by herself, and despite her hard work, she still received nothing but a place to sleep from either her family or the managers. Frustration quickly turned into resentment, festering within her over time. The other members of the family attempted to sooth her, to no avail; the girl had grown easily irritable, and often vociferously protested against their laziness. Fights grew common between them as she repeatedly tried to persuade them to work harder. One such argument escalated too far, tempers flared, and Gabrielle left the warehouse, furious with the people that had adopted her. She was tired of living in poverty and wasting every day away, when there was so much to be done. She now had no place to sleep in, though, and no way to earn food. Rather desperate, she applied to the Shinigami Academy, hoping they'd accept her; being a soul reaper sounded far better than lazing away every day, and they were respected by everyone in Rukongai.
Gabrielle made the cut by a narrow margin; she had barely enough spiritual energy to be considered for acceptance, yet she jumped eagerly at the chance. The girl devoted herself entirely to training, pushing herself to excel as best she could; hakuda and kidō were particularly troublesome for her, though, and it was only through hours of practice outside of class that she was able to barely pass the demanding tests required. She was content with her achievements, and the future looked bright; she would be able to graduate in six years if she kept up the pace she had set, and working as a Shinigami no longer seemed an unreachable dream. She redoubled her efforts, yet she dedicated little time to form friendships or bonds with other students. Her words were clipped and polite; those acquaintances that grew closer to the girl were quickly pushed away, as Gabrielle pointed out their flaws to them once she felt comfortable enough to do so. She never did it out of spite; her honest intention, at least in her mind, was to help them become better Shinigami, yet her friends did not appreciate the constant criticism. One by one, they drifted away from her.
After six long, arduous years, the day for her final test finally came, and anxiousness swept through her as she mentally rehearsed kidō activation phrases and basic zanjutsu stances. Along with forty other students, she performed the required exercises, feeling confident in her performance. She was only slightly nervous when she returned to her room; as she entered, she found out one of the other students had managed to get her hands on one of the instructor's clipboards, and had copied the list of approved students. Her heart leapt as she failed to find her name on it; panicking, she checked it twice before dashing out of the building, hoping none of the other students had noticed. She couldn't fail to graduate; it was inconceivable to her. The average Shinigami took six years to graduate; if it took her longer than that, she'd be looked down upon by all the other Shinigami. Jealousy for those that had passed filled her heart. None of them had trained as hard as she had, she rationalized, and therefore she deserved to graduate more than any of them. Anger filled her, and she resolved to take action; she'd make sure she graduated at any cost.
Late at night, she snuck into the Academy archives, switching her grades with those belonging to one of the graduates; meticulously checking her work, she made sure to erase all traces of her tampering as she best could. Guilt harassed her back in her bedroom, and yet a small part was immensely satisfied with the night's actions. Dawn came quickly; Gabrielle, too nervous to sleep properly, was the first at the assembly hall, where the graduating students from the group would be announced. She awaited patiently, content to wait and savor her moment of victory. When her name was called, however, she felt her hands grow cold, a pit opening in her stomach as realization struck and guilt overwhelmed her once more; barely restraining her emotions, she took the title and asauchi, feeling sick and empty inside. She barely paid attention as she signed up for the thirteenth division, filling out the forms handed to her and receiving her uniform in return. Instead of pride, she felt anger again; however, this time, she had nothing to direct it against except herself. Could she call herself anything but a fake Shinigami after her actions?
Combat
Strengths
Skies above the clouds - Gabrielle remains intensely focused in battle, ignoring taunts and jibes as long as they don't touch upon one of her main flaws.
Border of life - Having dedicated so much of her time to training, Gabrielle can endure a bit more pain than the average Shinigami, and push herself for slightly longer as well.
Weaknesses
Deaf to all but the song - Gabrielle, once engaged in battle, loses focus of her surroundings, concentrating only on her opponent. She will not immediately notice any new arrivals to the area, or gestures by her teammates, while focused on fighting.
A dream that is more scarlet than red - As the battle drags on, Gabrielle finds it harder to remain calm, overtaken by a desire to hurt her opponent. Not only is she unable to hold back on her attacks after passing this threshold, but she also grows more aggressive as her responses become more instinctual than tactical.
Charming domination - Gabrielle constantly tries to bury her main flaws in an attempt to avoid them, pretending they don't exist. If they are pointed out to her, she will instantly go into denial and lose her focus on whichever activity she was engaged in at the time.
Lost dream - Gabrielle is easily distracted by music, particularly when idle.
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