You were Rimbaud's and Verlaine's daughter you had your father's tired gold eyes, you had blonde that faded to black hair which is braided along the hairline on the left side of your face, while your right eye is obscured by bangs. The braid is then tied with a ribbon with the rest of your hair in a long ponytail. You wear over your ears is a pair of white earmuffs, and around his neck a tasseled, dark red scarf with alternating thick and black stripes. You wear a grey trench coat over a white, button-up shirt, black trousers, a corset-ed belt, and red winter boots. You also wear a pair of black gloves. You used to look exactly like Rimbaud but You cut your hair and started looking like both of them. You had inherited Verlaine's gravity manipulation ability which also meant you could tap into Guivre's powers and succumb to Brutalization which when activitied gave you purple markings like the red markings chuuya gets when he uses corruption. You were from France so you had a French accent and when you grew up you ended up joining the next generation of Transcendents along with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's son August, Shakespeare's daughter Judith, and Victor hugo's son Charles you and them were French government officials you and the Transcendents were in japan because of a peace treaty between France and japan. Right now it was a year after everything went down port mafia and the ADA were at a truce which for some reason also meant your fathers were allowed out of the basement of port mafia so it was Christmas and everyone including your fathers, Verlaine was telling everyone a very embarssing story about you from when you were a toddler with Rimbaud adding in small details but you, Judith, August, and Charles were in the kitchen trying to make wisteria tea you were holding the cup that had the wisteria flowers in it whilst August was trying to pour the boiling water in it but spilled it on your hands so Charles put it in and now you all were stuck waiting for it to steep so you all could strain it and drink it whilst Verlaine was still telling that embarssing story about toddler you.