BBB

[Brigitte Babineaux]

when your body breaks
even the hummingbirds will feel the earthquake.

character name: Brigitte Bernadette Babineaux
significance: Brigitte is the French derivation of Bridget, the anglicized form or the Irish name Brighid, meaning "exalted one". Brigitte's mother, Bernadette, wanted an elegant - and French, obviously - name for her eldest daughter as well as one with a suitable meaning and this met her stamp of approval. After all, in Irish mythology, Brighid was the goddess of fire, poetry, and wisdom, and the daughter of Dagda, the King of the Gods. Although Bernadette picked the wrong God, the irony of such a naming is rather pointed. Bernadette, as mentioned, is the name of Brigitte's mother. Her vanity compelled her to pass on her name as her daughter's middle name - and more than that, it was also somewhat of a tradition in the recent generations of her family. Babineaux comes from Brigitte's father, of course - Charles Babineaux. The Babineaux family is considered to be one of the "old families" in Paris, who can trace their lineage back to the nobility of le Moyen Âge. Or in other words, snotty as hell.

age: Eighteen years young
gender: Madamoiselle

hair & face: No, her hair is not blonde. Thank you very much. Sure, it's a disappointment to her golden-haired mother - and a twist of genetics considering her parents are both blonde but then again, her hair's colour's not exactly the more important twist of genetics in Brigitte - but it's just the way it is. Her hair was lighter as a child but it's only gotten darker and darker as she grows older and now it's more of a light brown than anything. It could maybe be classified as dirty blonde but she's always found that term rather disgusting. Dirty? No thank you. So light brown it is. Naturally, her hair is a bit wavy but she straightens it often, addicted to how it feels when it's thin and straight and she runs her fingers through it. So, from this description, it should be pretty easy to gather that her hair is by no means her most noticeable feature. Not to sound cliché, but that would be her face. Brigitte's features are perfectly symmetrical and well-proportioned - so she likes to think at least. She inherited her mother's high cheekbones and her father's slightly pointed chin. Her eyes are dark blue and quite large but she's never been able to decide whether they're too far apart or just right. Either way, they're framed by long yet tragically light lashes that always require mascara in order to be visible. As far as make-up goes, that's a must - one of many. See, Brigitte is always wearing make-up. She's always got her upper lid lined with a thin streak of black to set off her eyes, her lids dusted with light shadow, her lashes swept with black mascara, her face powdered, her cheeks dabbed with blush, and her lips coloured ever so slightly. Is it vanity? No, it's insecurity more than anything but we'll get to that. Back to le visage. Her nose is thin and straight, with no bumps to tell of past injuries. She's never really been seriously injured, lucky girl. The faintest of dimples when she truly smiles - although that's not an expression that she assumes often. Mostly when she smiles, it's a small expression, a slight curve of the lips, almost unsure. It's not as if she has anything to be insecure about when it comes to her smile though. Her teeth are straight and white - she can thank her mother for genetic blessing of the former and her strict hygienic routines as a child for the latter - and her lips, although average in size, are an attractive raspberry colour. So overall, is Brigitte pretty? Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In her eye, though? No.

build: Standing at 5' 8 1/2", it's safe to say that Brigitte is tall. That's not always a good thing, though, as it limits when she can and can't wear heels, as the last thing she wants to do is tower over everyone else around her. She oftens wishes that she was shorter, finding her height unattractive and unflattering. It's all in the legs, though, really. She's almost unproportionate, with her short torso and long legs. You'd think that would be a good thing. Western culture idolizes "long, slim legs" but there's no way that Brigitte's could even be called slim. They're skinny. They're bony and thin, just like her arms. Just like her, really. She's a mere 109 pounds, definitely an unhealthy weight for someone of her height. And it shows, in her slightly protruding collar bone, in her spine which is evident when she bends over, and in her ribs which are defined against her skin and obvious when she wears a bathing suit. She's too skinny. But as far as Brigitte is concerned? There's no such thing. Growing up, she was never skinny enough, never pretty enough. So now? She doesn't see that she's taken it too far, that's she's gone past what is healthy. But if she were to stop monitoring what she eats, if she were stop obsessing about her weight and jean size and all those lovely things... Well, then things would go back to the way they used to be. And that is not an option. So it's calorie-counting and bingeing-when-extremely-necessary for this girl. The latter is a rarity though, only after severe lapses in control. Which are few and far between, Brigitte being the obsessive perfectionist that she is. Moving on from her skinny little figure, though, what else is there to know? As mentioned, her arms are skinny, definitely no muscle there and definitely no fat. Her hands are small, her fingers are thin, and her nails are always painted. She could say that that's just her mother's teachings ingrained in her: French manicure for day-to-day affairs, light pinks for special occasions, darker pinks or red for big events. Honestly, though, having her nails constantly polished keeps her from biting them like she used to and that's usually on her mind as she re-paints and re-paints them. Her toe-nails are usually done in a simple French manicure as well.

other notable physical characteristics: Brigitte's mother always wrinkled her nose at tattoos, believing them to be trashy and lower class. This message - along with many others - was passed along to her eldest daughter with the understanding that it would be abided by. And so it was. Brigitte's contemplated acquiring a tattoo many times but has never been able to bring herself to do it - there's something about it that suggests she would be marring her body and that thought alone, besides dredging her mother's shrill voice into her head, is enough of a turn off.

Her ears are pierced, once, and she's almost always wearing her diamond studs, only changing them for special occasions. Her ears are also extremely small, which isn't really anything oh so important but certainly a neat little trivia fact. They're ridiculously small, actually, disproportionately so, but it's not too noticeable unless you know what to look for. Besides, her hair normally hides them. Other than her earrings, she has no piercings, as these would also marr her body, in her opinion.

god/goddess: You know you've heard of him, even if was only in that completely off-base Disney movie. You know, he was the guy with the blue hair. Yeah, that's right. Hades. God of the underworld, and a pretty powerful guy. He's capable of turning invisible and is often associated as being "evil". He's the brother of Zeus and Poseidon. The three of them overthrew their father, Cronus, the original King of the Gods and in the resulting draw, Hades definitely pulled the short straw. Zeus became King of the Gods, presiding over affairs from Mount Olympus. Poseidon was made God of the Oceans and Hades? God of the Underworld. Which meant he had to live in the Underworld, with dead souls and a three-headed dog for company. Can't blame him for wanting to steal himself a wife in Persephone, daughter of Demeter. But the plan didn't quite work when she only consumed six seeds of the pomegranate - any who eat food in the Underworld are forced to remain in the Underworld - and as such, she only must spend half of each year as his Queen. The other half is spent in the above world with her mother, enjoying the beautiful weather of Spring and Summer that her presence brings. Hades, on the other hand, is always in the Underworld, his kingdom of the dead. Sounds more than a little gloomy. So really, do you blame the guy for having affairs here and there? I mean, if it wasn't for a certain one with Bernadette Babineaux, there never would have been Brigitte here.

likes:
+ Pantyhose
+ Layered necklaces
+ Red lipstick
+ Flat irons
+ Face powder
+ French
+ Simple bracelets
+ Rings
+ Headbands
+ Thick mascara
+ Ankle boots
+ Flowy tops
+ Clutches
+ Leggings
+ Ballet
+ Classical music
+ Lockets
+ Polaroid cameras
+ Pearl necklaces
+ Large watches
+ Sunglasses
+ Small dogs
+ Diamond studs
+ Thunderstorms
+ Independence
+ Perfection
+ Fruit smoothies
+ Iced tea
+ Passion tea
+ Black coffee
+ Charm bracelets
+ Crosswords
+ Size 0 Jeans

dislikes:
- Her sister
- Her mother
- Nail-biters
- Orders
- Disorganization
- English
- Flats
- Belts
- Lip gloss
- Calories
- Complaints
- Plants
- Cats
- Spiders
- Longer-than-knee-length skirts
- Miniskirts (there's a balance)
- Sunny weather
- Mice and other rodents
- Having attention stolen
- Embarassment
- Teasing
- People who expect trust
- Judgements of character (unless from her)
- Assumptions
- Fishnets
- Curly hair
- Cigarettes
- Large dogs
- Dirt
- Ouija
- Fortune tellers
- Hot chocolate
- Carbonated beverages

hobbies:
:: Crosswords - She'll spend hours working away at one of the damn things until she's figured it out or merely grows so frustrated that she rips it up into little pieces.
:: Photography - It's not as if she's some prodigy or has any professional future ahead of her but it's something that she enjoys and that she does for herself.
:: Dance - Brigitte did ballet when she was younger and although it's been a while, it's still something that can calm her down when she's stressed.
:: Reading - This is something that she'd do more often if it wasn't for the fact that she's such a slow reader, it takes her forever to finish anything, and she gets frustrated.
:: Shopping - Ever since her transformation of sorts, shopping's become a favorite pastime. After all, why wouldn't it be when she can squeeze her tiny little butt into size 0 jeans on a good day?

personality:

candy lips that taste too sweet

To an outside observer, Brigitte is a self-assured, confident, pretty young girl. She comes from a good background, grew up more than comfortably, is a smart student, and has parents that are still married. A blessed life. And despite how far from the truth such a perception is, Brigitte does absolutely everything to encourage it. She'd much rather people see her as the perfect little good girl than... the way they used to see her. A nobody. A loser. Ugly. No. She'll never let herself be that person again - she'll never let anyone else see her that way again. After all, the way that other people see her is everything to Brigitte and it always has been. Why? That's a good question, and the answer traces back to her mother. Everything traces back to Bernadette, let's be honest. All of Brigitte's body issues and self doubt and insecurity... But oh right, we haven't gotten there yet. Just wait and you'll see. We're still examing the exterior. And that would be a pretty girl. Simple. A privileged girl even. Rich, beautiful - according to some - smart, sure, Brigitte's met a few girls in her time who've been jealous. And jealousy? As bitter as it can be, she also laps it up. Because if someone else is jealous of her than that would mean that she's worth being jealous of. Comprenez-vous? Non? Well. For the longest time, no one was jealous of Brigitte. And why would they be? She was just some loser. The girl who had the right family, the right connections, everything in the palm of her hand... And was still a loser. So the idea that anyone would now be jealous of her is enough to boost up the self esteem for a little bit, enough to merit a cocky little smile, for sure. Does it last? No, but nothing does, if you want to get really cynical about it. The point is that Brigitte's constantly projecting an image for people to judge instead of her. Partially because she's too afraid to let anyone judge her, too afraid that they'll just see the loser everyone used to see, and also because in all truth, she wishes she really was that girl she pretends to be.

you were a fire caught in a storm

In all fairness, though, much of Brigitte's insecurities can also be traced back to her younger sister, Antoinette. Ah, yes. Antoinette Angelique Babineaux, the little angel of the family. Sarcasm? Not at all. ...No, really. That's the hardest thing. Antoinette - Nette, for short - is an angel. Somehow, she's always managed to float on through their little world with a smile on her face and no deep-roote issues that should really be looked at by an experienced psychiatrist. It would be easy to just hate Nette. She's the perfect daughter, everything that their parents ever wanted in a child. It's obviously that Bernadette favours her youngest - even when she denies such, she doesn't do it fullheartedly. Which makes it oh so easy for Brigitte to hate her. Except... Nette's a sweetheart. An honest-to-God sweetheart, who'd never wish anyone harm, who'd never hurt a fly. Perhaps that's how she managed. But regardless, it makes it so much harder for Brigitte to hate her. But also so much easier. She's perfect. The perfect little good girl - or in other words, everything that Brigitte pretends to be and everything that she wishes she was. With her blond curls and bright blue eyes, so much more vibrant than Brigitte's dull hair and dark eyes. Antoinette Babineaux would never be called a loser by anyone. She's the farthest thing from it. At the private prep school that she currently attends - the same one Brigitte attended - she's the most popular girl in her year. Not a mean girl, though. A sweet queen bee, loved by all her subjects. It's enough to make Brigitte want to puke. Actually, it's enough to make her puke. That's what she does after all. Sure, she's obsessive about her appearance, she forces herself to have insane willpower... But of course she slips up. No one's perfect and Brigitte Babineaux has always known that she's far from it. So when she does slip up, when she binges on some sort of fattening food out of anger or sadness or frustration or simple lack of self-control... Well, that's not acceptable. And once she calms down and realizes what she's done, that's when it's got to be fixed. Undone. You get the picture.

this is the death of beauty

Yeah, to say that Brigitte has issues with body image would be to put it lightly. She's never been pretty enough for her mother, she's never been as pretty as her sister, she's never been pretty enough to catch the attention of the boys she crushed on from afar in high school... She's never been pretty. Always the ugly stepsister, never Cinderella. But that's okay, Antoinette deserves to be Cinderella. She deserves to fall in love and get married to Prince Charming and live happily ever after. And Brigitte? Of course she doesn't. She's bitter and she's a fake and deep down, she's still the same loser she used to be. The same loser she'll always be. It doesn't really matter how people toss off compliments about what a cute top she's wearing or how great her hair looks parted like that or how much they love her new shoes and where did she get them? It doesn't matter that she's moved across the ocean to a completely new continent, that she's run away from the mean, bitchy girls. She knows - or feels - that she's never going to be as popular as Chantelle or as beautiful as Ginette or as skinny as Honorine. She'll never be one of them, she's missed her chance. So it doesn't matter that she's living a completely new life, that she's managed to create a new image of someone who's confident and self-assured and perfect. No matter how hard she tries, she can never change the past, she can never change who she was, and she never change the fact that she was an ugly, fat loser. Even just thinking about it... She cringes. She'll keep powdering on her make-up perfect and straightening her hair obsessively and starving herself but... She can't change who she used to be. Eventually, she'll have to accept that. But for now? That's the last thing she's able to do.

who shot that arrow in your throat?

And after all of those issues, it should be no surprise that Brigitte has problems trusting people. I mean, go figure, right? Of course she does. She's never really had anyone in her family she can completely trust or rely on. Except for, ironically enough, Antoinette. But then again, she can't really trust her. Sure, she knows that her sister would never betray her or reveal anything she said or anything like that... But she's still Antoinette. She's the last person in the world that Brigitte would want knowing how messed up she is. It doesn't matter that she honestly does love her little sister, she just... She can't help but feel competitive with her. It's funny, because she's heard parents say before that siblings are only competitive when they're close in age and yet, although Antoinette's a full four years younger than her, she can't imagine it being more competitive between them. Except for the fact that it's completely one-sided. But ignoring that. Yeah. Brigitte Babineaux has some serious trust issues. It's not like she's never had any friends but through grade school they all sort of came and went and most of them were closer with other friends. It wasn't that she was a loner, God no. She wanted to be a part of one of their little groups, one of the cliques. More than anything. She would have died to be a part of something, to be accepted, to have a bunch of friends, to just belong. With Chantelle, Ginette, and Honorine, she honestly thought that she did. Hell, she nearly killed herself bending over backwards for those girls, carrying their school books around, doing their homework for them, fetching this and that, running errands, bringing them their lattes, doing all the dirty work... And she didn't even mind. She never minded because she was one of them and that was all she'd ever wanted to be. But then eventually the harsh truth was realized. She wasn't one of them, she was just their lackey. She was just some loser they could boss around and laugh at behind her back. So really, after that sort of humiliation, yeah, it's not a surprise at all that she's got some serious trust issues.

and there is discord in the garden tonight

All in all, it's safe to say that Brigitte is pretty darn messed up. She's moved to New York and she's trying to put the past behind her but everyone knows that that's easier said than done. But at the same time, she's human. She's more than her faults. She's got other qualities too, she's got quirks just like everyone else. She loves it when it rains. If there's no one around, she'll go out and dance around in the rain. Thunderstorms are even better. She loves it. And on the other hand? Well, she hates spiders and all forms of creepy crawlies. She doesn't do so well with heights and she's freaked out by death. It doesn't make much sense at a first glance, seeing as it's not like she's ever lost a dear relative or friend or anyone she knew well at all. Really, Brigitte's had no experience with death whatsoever. And yet that just makes it scarier, in a way. She has no idea what it's like to lose someone, to go through a near-death experience... She hasn't got a clue. And it's that naiveté, that cluelessness, that makes it scarier. It's a serious phobia of hers too, not just the sort of discomfort that everyone feels about death. I mean, no one likes the idea of one day dying. Well, perhaps that's an overgeneralization but just go with it. The point is that for Brigitte, it's not so much an inevitability that she tries not to think about. It... it terrifies her. Sometimes late at night, when she's lying in bed and trying to go to sleep, the thought will just pop into her head that some day she's going to die. She can't change that, she can't control that. Some day, she will die and she won't be alive anymore and... And what then? She was raised Catholic but she's never been extremely religious and as much as she reassures herself with the idea of Heaven, an afterlife, she's never completely at ease with it all. Whenever she starts to think about dying - whether herself or even just anyone - she gets freaks out and sometimes even has panic attacks. That's not to say that this happens all the time, oh no, not at all. But on the few occasions when she really thinks about it, she gets this pain in her stomach and her head gets dizzy and she starts breathing fast and has to try and distract herself with something else so she doesn't completely lose it. It's unnatural, sure, but everyone has their quirks. It's not like hers represents anything special.

character’s parents:
Bernadette Aurélie Babineaux - 40 years old
- vain, shallow, spoiled little rich girl

Charles Alexandre Babineaux - 47 years old
- dedicated to work, often absent but a good man

siblings:
Antoinette Angelique Babineaux - 14 years old
- beautiful, kind, the perfect daughter

other family members of note: None

history:

Bernadette Dupont was the sort of girl that everyone envied. Rich, gorgeous, perfect - or in other words, everything that Brigitte never felt like she could measure up to. But nevermind that. Bernadette's parents, Claudine and François Dupont, were filthy rich and made sure everyone knew it. François was a politician and Claudine... well, Claudine was his wife. That was her occupation and, as she instructed her only daughter - only child, really, as she had two miscarriages later but was never able to have a child again - Bernadette, that was all the occupation that a woman needed. And so Bernadette grew up spoiled and filled with all sorts of little life lessons along those lines. She breezed through life and married young, twenty-six year old business man, Charles Babineaux, when she was nineteen years old. It was a big, white wedding - the perfect day for the perfect couple. They were both blonde-haired, blue-eyed, attractive, from good families... Yes, they seemed the perfect couple in so many ways. They were the perfect couple, Bernadette told herself. Over and over. But the thing is, that shouldn't be something that you have to tell yourself. She shouldn't have to try and convince herself that she loved Charles by listing off all his positive qualities in her head. What mattered was that she did love him, they had a stable life together, and they were the perfect couple. On the outside, at least. On the inside... it only took a year for Bernadette to feel trapped. She'd always been popular with boys, never suffering from a lack of male attention. And it wasn't that she didn't receive any from Charles - oh, she certainly did - but he had his business trips and at first it would just be a week or two but soon enough they became month-long trips and then, two years into their marriage, two months even. And Bernadette had no occupation of her own to distract herself with - being a wife was the only occupation a woman needed, remember? - and it was all nice and fine to shop with her girlfriends and go out for lunch and go get her hair styled and her nails done and treat herself but it started to feel a little... dare she say... shallow?

Oh, who would have thought. Who would have thought that pretty little socialite, Bernadette Babineaux, would ever find anything to criticize in her perfect lifestyle. Who would have thought that she'd ever take a step back and realize how shallow her life was. But she did. And she didn't like it. Was it Charles, she wondered? Did she merely feel suffocated by her loveless marriage? Or was she unhappy with the person that she was? It was as if, at the young age of twenty-one, Bernadette was having a mid-life crisis. The result of this "mid-life" crisis? An encounter with a certain someone. Little did she know that the handsome, dark-haired facade he wore was just that indeed - a facade. Little did she know that he went by so many different names, even if he gave her none. The most known being "Hades." No, Bernadette knew none of those things. All she knew was that Charles had been gone on his business trip for a month and wouldn't be returning for another month and here was a very handsome young man who seemed oh so interested in her and it had been such a long time since she'd had a man look at her that way. Usually, they saw the ring on her finger and fled. Not this guy. He didn't seem to care at all when she met him, one night as she was getting out of the car - not that she drove, they afforded a driver, obviously. He was leaning up against the ivy-covered wall of their expensive townhouse - in the best part of town, of course, those were the fashion - and when she asked what he was doing here, he didn't give an answer. As if she cared. As if she even got a name out of him before they were upstairs in her bed and her clothes were off and her husband was the farthest thing from her mind. She wasn't meaning to cheat, she wasn't meaning to be unfaithful, she was just... She was completely seduced, that was the only word that seemed to describe it. Séduit par le beau jeune homme. It wasn't even a conscious choice. She didn't even register how they got from outside the house to her bedroom but they were there and she couldn't spare a thought to something as stupid as how because suddenly they were- Oh, suddenly her mind was elsewhere indeed.

When she woke up in the morning, he was gone, and she was certain that the whole affair must have been a dream. She'd never cheat on her husband. She hadn't cheated. But even if it had just been a dream, from this moment, she wouldn't even think about cheating. She would be a loyal, dutiful wife and she would love him and they would grow old together and she would continue living life the way she did because any alternative was ridiculous. She'd had a plan and she would stick to it. And she did. Charles returned from Venice and she let herself fall in love with him all over again. More so than before - becaues let's be honest, had she ever loved him? Truly loved him? She didn't want to think about that. That was a thing of the past. What mattered was the present and the future. Her future with Charles. It was all that she had and she'd been an idiot to forget that, even for one moment. Who cared if her life wasn't meaningful. It was stable. She had a husband who loved her. She loved him. They were the perfect couple and they would have perfect children and grow old together and their perfect children would make respectable marriages and they'd have perfect grandchildren... And so the cycle would continue. It was all set in stone, really. And there could be no allowances, no deviations from what was set. Bernadette's mind was firmly made up. Of course, all that changed two months after Charles had returned from his business trip. When she called the doctor to visit because of her nauseau and back pain and he informed her that she was pregnant. She should have been delighted. Their perfect child was on the way. She really was about to get the life she'd always wanted, the life she deserved. And when he first told her that she was pregnant? She was delighted. Until he continued. Until he elaborated.

She was three months pregnant.

As in... As in... It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a dream. Oh god. Mon dieu. Ce n'était pas... pas un rêve. Mon dieu. Mon dieu. Non... cela ne pouvait pas être la vérité. This couldn't... This couldn't be true. This couldn't be happening. Oh god. Mon dieu, mon dieu. Remorse washed over Bernadette as she tried to keep up the delighted act. It was a good thing that Charles was at work, that he wasn't there for the doctor's announcement. Because... he couldn't know. He could never know. She'd pretend that she was two months pregnant. The baby would be premature, as far as Charles would know. He couldn't find out that she'd cheated on him with... Some guy who's name she didn't even know. Oh god. No, he couldn't. And not just because it would ruin her plan, it would ruin what was set in stone, but because she honestly felt terrible about it. Because she'd been completely resolved to be the perfect wife and have the perfect life with him and that couldn't change. She loved him. She couldn't hurt him. And as we all know, what you don't know won't hurt you. So he wouldn't know. Bernadette announced her pregnancy excitedly to him. She was two months pregnant! They were going to have a child! Rejoice! And her plan was safe. Her plan worked. Charles was a busy man and the doctor made house calls so he didn't need to worry about Bernadette having to go out by herself. She managed to keep it all secret, somehow. She shouldn't have been able to. There should have been some moment where the lie became apparent, where she couldn't compartmentalize everything anymore. But it never happened. Almost as if... dare it be said, the gods were looking out for her? Well, one God, perhaps. And so, Charles never found out. Bernadette went into "premature" labour when she was "eight" months pregnant but the baby was born healthy enough, and they named her Brigitte. Brigitte Bernadette Babineaux.

Everything was perfect. And somewhere along the way, Bernadette started to believe the lie too. This was their daughter. Their perfect little daughter. Of course it didn't take long to realize that their daughter wasn't so perfect. Her hair wasn't blonde. It was... dull. Her eyes were blue, sure, but they weren't bright, they were dark. She threw tantrums and she was chubby and her hair never seemed to grow in properly and even when Bernadette dressed her up in the prettiest pink dresses, people asked if she was a boy. Eventually, she had to face the facts. Brigitte was not the perfect daughter she'd always dreamed she and Charles would have, and she never would be that perfect daughter. Bernadette was distraught, figuring that this was some sort of punishment. She'd cheated and now she'd been left with a dumpy, imperfect daughter that was nothing like the little angel she'd always wanted. Karma's a real bitch, eh? Yeah. And at some point along the way... she wasn't quite sure when, mind you, Bernadette started to realize that she felt none of the proper motherly feelings for her daughter. Brigitte was just... She was nothing like the daughter she'd always wanted. Bernadette had already decided that when Brigitte was only three years old, convinced that the little girl was no blessing of a daughter but rather a curse, a punishment for the error of her ways, a constant reminder of her mistake and her lie. Bernadette became depressed and they had to hire nannies to look after Brigitte. It was explained as delayed post-partem. But then? Miracle of all holy miracles, when Brigitte was just over three years old, Bernadette became pregnant again. This time, the baby would be Charles'. This time, she would have her perfect child. If Brigitte was a curse, this baby would be a blessing. It was an easy pregnancy and when a beautiful baby girl was born, she was dubbed Antoinette Angelique Babineaux.

She was the perfect child. That much became obvious. She had bright, expressive eyes. When she was born, she didn't cry, she looked around the room with interest. She had faint tufts of blonde hair which would eventually grow into ringlets. She was never mistaken for a boy. She never threw tantrums. And so Brigitte watched as her baby sister was spoiled and showered with affection while Bernadette essentially tried to forget that she even had an elder daughter. Charles, on the other hand, not knowing the secret of Brigitte's conception, had never harbored such mixed feelings about Brigitte and remained a decent father. But he was still a busy man and often away. And it was obvious that Antoinette was the favoured child. After all, she was the perfect child. Brigitte was the mistake, the result of an error in judgment that should have been forgotten but now never could be forgotten. And so she grew up in her little sister's shadow. She loved Antoinette but it was impossible to not feel competitve at the same time, impossible to not be jealous and bitter. Antoinette was prettier, better loved, just... better. She had blonde curls and bright blue eyes and dimples and a thin waist. Brigitte had dull, boring hair that was that unattractive colour between blonde and brown and her eyes were dark and hardly stood out and she barely had dimples and she was fat. Well, no, she wasn't. Maybe slightly heavy but not fat. She just felt fat. Compared to her twig of her mother and her thin little kid sister... Yeah. Ugh. She was gross. And school didn't help matters. She wasn't one of the popular girls. She was invisible. A nobody. Girls never sought out her friendship, boys never crushed on her. She crushed on them from afar but it wasn't as if anything ever happened. She never had a date for dances, she never had a Valentine. Until high school. That's when it all changed. That's when she met Chantelle, Ginette, and Honorine. They were sophomores and she was a freshman. They were the coolest girls she'd ever met - beautiful, popular, sought after by all the cutest guys. And they let her hang out with him. They let her hang out with them. Who cared if she was running around fetching things for them or painstakingly hand-writing out invitations to the parties they threw - parties that she wasn't even always invited to - or doing their dirty work for them so they stood no risk of getting in trouble. No, that risk fell all on her. As did the punishment. Brigitte found this out the hard way in her junior year.

Her name was Annabelle Leguerrier. She had shiny auburn hair that was apparently distracting enough to steal the attention of Chantelle's boyfriend. And that was unacceptable. Even more unacceptable when Antonin - the boyfriend - dumped Chantelle and hooked up with the auburn-haired bitch. The response? Revenge. Duh. Of course, there was no way that they could risk their squeaky clean reputations. That was the whole point of having Brigitte around. It was obvious how much she fawned over them and they figured they might as well take advantage of that. So they got her to take care of their revenge for them. Brigitte did their bidding, spray-painting "Pute" (whore) all over Anabelle's locker. The bitch deserved it, right? Well. The headmistress of the school certainly didn't think so when security cameras offered proof of who'd committed the offence. Such an act was unacceptable for a young lady of their school, violated many of the rules of behaviour, and as such, Brigitte was expelled. No, not suspended. Not given a bunch of detentions to serve. Expelled. Zero tolerance for harassment. Might have been nice if she'd thought of that before she'd committed the offence but she hadn't been thinking about getting caught. She was just carrying out her the ditry work for her "friends" like she always did. After all. they'd done so much for her. They gave her tips on what to wear, how to do her make-up and for the time in her life, Brigitte didn't feel like a complete loser. She got to walk down the halls behind them as they strode forward in an intimidating line of girl power, she got to be the sidekick to their posse. And it was the best thing she'd ever experienced. So she didn't mind doing the dirty work. But this time, she got caught. This time, there were consequences. And her "friends"? Like they gave a shit when she came crying to them, freaking out about what her parents would say and how this would affect her getting into college and what was she going to do? They shrugged it off, laughed, teased her and were on their way. They weren't expelled, it wasn't their problem. It was Brigitte's problem. And she was furious. She'd put up with their little jabs - they'd constantly made teasing remarks about her hair, her weight, everything about her - and she'd done so much for them and she'd gotten expelled doing something for them and... they didn't even care. Of course they didn't care. Because they'd never cared about her.

The realization was... Well, the only thing she could really compare it to was getting punched in her stomach. She was a complete mess for days, inconsolable. Her parents were upset and distraught and didn't understand why she'd done such a thing in the first place. As far as Bernadette was concerned, it was only proof of how imperfect Brigitte was, how much she didn't fit into their perfect little world. But she did love her daughter, even if it was hard. She just didn't know what to do. The school year was almost over and Brigitte had locked herself in her room and wouldn't come out. They tried to find a new school but it was simply too late in the year and there was no way that she could recover her credits. But that wasn't even the chief issue on Brigitte's mind. She'd decided that she was never again going to be that girl. That... that pathetic little loser. She could be pretty too. She could be popular too. She'd seen the inside of those girls' world and she'd been so close and it could be hers, she just knew it. Ginette had showed her how to straighten her hair and she practiced until she could get it just perfect. Her maman was always giving Antoinette little beauty tips that were easy to pick up. And she would lose the weight. She didn't care if that meant that she had to stop eating certain foods that she liked, she just- She had to lose it. She would lose it. That was her resolution when she finally came out of her room. She stuck to the same diet as her mother and younger sister - who was only thirteen, mind you, but still - and she forced herself not to eat when she was hungry and when she couldn't take it and she did overeat, well... She learned how to take care of that. Over the toilet with a toothbrush down her throat. Eventually though, she didn't need to do that as much. She wanted this so bad that it became easier to not eat, to starve herself. She took courses over the summer to try and regain the credits she'd lost and that kept her busy. Instead of being bitter towards her mother, she asked to be included more. She went shopping with them, she learned what clothes flattered her best as she lost more and more weight. Bernadette was delighted, thinking that was maybe hope for Brigitte after all, especially when another private school accepted her registration for the fall so she could start her senior year as if nothing had happened. She made up her lost credits that summer and then it was time for a brand new year. And oh, how different it was.

See, no one here knew who she was. Rumors got around about her being expelled from her old school but when you were pretty and skinny and hot, those rumors just made you mysterious, not lame. The popular girls befriended her and this time, she wasn't their lackey, she was one of them. For real. Of course, it wasn't as if she was ever able to bring herself to trust any of them or divulge any secrets. Her friendships were purely shallow - as was her relationship with her first boyfriend, who she was more than happy to flaunt around. But she didn't care. She finally had the life that she wanted. She could be the perfect girl that she'd always wanted to be. It was a good year for her. She kept losing weight, to the envy of her new friends, and by the end of the year, she was a size two. "Bitch," they'd tease, and she'd laugh and be secretly delighted that they were jealous of her. Life was finally good. Except that she still wasn't good enough for her mother. She was pretty now but she still wasn't good enough, she still wasn't as good as Antoinette. She didn't know the reason why her mother would never be happy with her. She didn't know any of that, all that she knew was that she wasn't good enough. So when she was applying for colleges, she didn't just apply for ones in France. She didn't even limit it to Europe, sending applications to a bunch of universities in the United States. It seemed like the perfect escape. And when she got the big envelope back saying she'd been accepted into Columbia's undergraduate political science program? She didn't think she'd ever been happier. She was going to get out of here. She was going to go live in New York. She would stand on her own two feet and Antoinette wouldn't be around to outshine her and her mother wouldn't be around to make her feel worthless and... She would be the same girl that had been popular this year. The perfect little girl that people envied instead of scoffed at. Her parents would pay for her tuition - Bernadette was relieved to be rid of her, honestly - and even for own little apartment. Life was going to be better. So much better. Brigitte packed up her bags and flew to NYC. English was the biggest difficulty, as she knew only a little, but through the complete immersion over the summer, she was able to get a better grip on the language, even if it's something she still struggles with from time to time. For example? Americains don't seem to understand that no, her name is not "Bridget". Frankly, she thinks that's a hideous name. So she goes by "Bree" for the most part, something simple enough that people here seem able to pronounce it without completely butchering it. Not that it's enough to make her regret her move, no. She's still relieved to leave Paris and her family behind and just try her best to not look back. Of course, that's easier said than done.

password: [removed]
username: Bee!
gender: Femme
age: Ageless (;
other characters you play: None

[Freyja]

accepted! <3
amazing app, srsly.