Vivian Li-Jahn
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Vivian Li-Jahn | |
| Player: @KimonoCourtesan | |
| Origin: | Natural |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Scrapper. Katana. Super Reflex |
| Security Level: | 17 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Vivian Li-Jahn |
| Known Aliases: | Lady Bloodgroove |
| Species: | Human |
| Age: | 27 |
| Height: | 5'10 |
| Weight: | 110 |
| Eye Color: | Grey |
| Hair Color: | Auburn Red |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Chinese French |
| Occupation: | Art Curator |
| Place of Birth: | Paris, France |
| Base of Operations: | Talos Island |
| Marital Status: | Married to Marc Jahn |
| Known Relatives: | Father and Mother |
| Known Powers | |
| Confidential | |
| Known Abilities | |
| N/A | |
| Equipment | |
| Cellphone on hand | |
| Fluent in Mandarin, French, English, Conversational Spanish | |
When her parents advised her not to marry the wealthy American with reddish brown hair and intelligent brown eyes, she said it was love. But shortly after the honeymoon, Vivian discovered love came with a high price; long days and longer weekends, alone. Perhaps her parents had been right, or perhaps seven months was just too short a time to declare one was ready to share a lifetime with another. Whatever the case may be, it was too late for regrets.
Nowadays, she rarely saw him except for a few times out of the week, if she was lucky. Marc's 'business' and travel schedule was hectic and he often traveled across and out of the country. She had understood this before they married, as she also had her art museum to run and manage and having high-end jobs meant high demand for time and effort. He had asked that she simply trust him and believe that some of the things he did were too confidential, even to share with his wife, and to know that he loved her. She was a woman in love, of course she agreed.
She always missed him when he was away, although she kept that mostly to herself as time and distance made them feel like strangers once again. But as the lonely days turned into weeks and into months, she had begun to wonder: When he was home, why did the scent of expensive cigars linger on his tailored suits? She had never known him to smoke a day in his life since they met. And why did the scent of expensive perfumes, hinting of female company, linger on his clothes in the hamper?
She tried to keep herself busy with work, but it was becoming difficult not to be distracted by thoughts of where he was and who he was with, but what gnawed at her, was why...Did she really know the man she married? How long did he expect her to pretend she didn't notice the bruises on his magnificent physique during those rare occassions they made love, only to wake up to a perfectly unblemished body beside her?
But how hypocritical of her; there were some things he didn't know, and his secrets made her comfortable with keeping hers. So who was she to start asking, unless she was also ready to answer?
(More to Come)
