Registry of the Evolved Database
File #25 Jan 2011 02:50
|
 Evan Rachel Wood |
My name is Soleil Remi Davignon. I was born on September 7th of 1986 in Marseille, France, the only child of my wonderful parents, Leon and Victoria Davignon. My mother was a British fashion designer who married into a French family, and my father was from the Davignon family, already one of the wealthier families in Marseilles due to a long-standing corporation that had been passed down to three generations of his family.
The first few years of my life were quite a charmed existence, as should be expected from any wealthy home with an only child to dote on. Certainly, I didn't see my parents as often as I would have preferred when they were off at work, but that's what they had hired Jules, our butler, for. When I was not with my parents, I was with him. This was admittedly more often than I would have preferred, but what can you do?
As I grew, I was placed through private training, learning all of the skills my parents and homeschooling guidelines deemed necessary for basic education. I was taught how to properly speak English and quickly gained fluency in the language. I was also given basic classes in Russian later in life.
When I was three, I was put into ballet classes. I had always taken a shine to the ballets that my parents would bring me to, and thus they made the decision to place me into ballet training. I did amazingly well and showed great dedication for one so young. I aspired to become one of those graceful dancers upon the stage, leaping and twirling like a faerie. And so I pushed myself hard and applied myself. After all, hard work is the only path to true success, as my father always said.
We had family who lived in Britain, as well. Occasionally, we would visit, and I would spend time with my aunt and uncle, playing with their children. My favorite of my cousins was a girl named Tibby, and we quickly grew close. She was only eight months younger than me, and we liked roughly the same things. She enjoyed watching me dance, and I admittedly enjoyed the attention. She and I were fast friends by the time I was seven and she was six. I didn't care for many of her siblings, but Tibby was more like my sister than anything else. Or at least, that's how I thought of her.
And so I grew and flourished, a lovely young starlet as my mother would call me. I readily absorbed what my parents taught; I spoke the languages as well as I could, I had the importance of financial responsibility drilled into my head, and I danced my heart out. In return for my hard work as a daughter, I was rewarded with the finer things in life and usually received whatever my heart desired. One such instance was when I was 10. I auditioned for and got into the Moscow State Academy of Choreography, and was at the beginning of my journey to become a ballerina.
I trained there for six years, working hard to learn the proper dance moves. I was the star there at the Academy; not only were my parents major sponsors of the school and of the Bolshoi Ballet Company (which I'm sure helped me out quite a bit), but my hard work paid off rather well. At the end of my time at the Academy, I was the lead in the graduation performance.
Afterwards, I was eagerly accepted into the Bolshoi Ballet Company at the age of seventeen. I started in corps de ballet, though that didn't seem to last for long; with my dancing skills, I was readily put into soloist roles within months of my arrival, dancing the smaller solo roles in ballets. I did these small solo roles for a little over a year, until at the age of 18, I was made into a principal dancer.
The first ballet that I danced the lead in was Swan Lake. My parents were there, as was my cousin Tibby. My performance was received well, and I was given many other roles in return for my performances. And at each performance were my parents and my cousin, both who always supported me in my quest to become a famous ballerina. Life was good, and I was happy. It was difficult work, but I always persevered, always did my very best.
It was the fall holiday when my entire world was upended. November 8th, 2006. That day, I was told that I was to receive the title of Prima Ballerina. Excited, I called my parents and told them the news. They were thrilled! My father was in Marseilles, attending to his company, while my mother was in New York, at her fashion office.
The last conversation I ever had with my mother was our shrill squeals of triumph over my recent promotion.
That night, I went out and partied with Tibby and a few friends. We celebrated with drinks and dinner and generally had an amazing time of things. That night, I went to bed with a bright smile on my face, excited that I would be seeing my parents the next day. Those days, it was rare for me to be able to see them unless they came for a show. I had worked hard to get where I was, and it had affected my time with my family.
The next morning, I awoke to the news of a terrible tragedy in New York City. Not an hour after my phone call, a bomb had gone off in Midtown, which was where my mother's office was. I immediately flew back to our estate in Marseilles with Tibby, where she, my father and I waited anxiously for news. In the end, it was confirmed that my mother's office was now part of the crater in New York, and it was fairly obvious that my mother had been lost in the explosion. I was devastated, and I went into hiding in our secluded estate, practicing my ballet to keep my mind clear. When it was just me and the music, it was a little easier to cope. I refused to even see Tibby in this time; in fact, the only person who saw me was the butler.
My father took the loss of my mother especially hard; he withdrew to one corner of our large home, while I withdrew to the other. We lived in the same home, yet we hardly ever saw each other. With her gone, he threw himself wholeheartedly into his business, while ignoring me. I can't say that this did not hurt me immensely; but at the same time, my father and I had never had much of a relationship to speak of, so I had already come to have low expectations of him, though a part of me wishes it had brought us together, as opposed to driving us apart as it has.
After two months of mourning, I returned to Bolshoi, where I was welcomed with open arms. There, I danced, doing my best. Each performance was difficult, without my parents there; my mother would never be able to attend a performance, and my father just…didn't. It was a stressful time for me, practicing so much every day, and I had little time to relax, with only one or two days free of dancing every week; but even when I had days off, I would practice. Being a Prima Ballerina means always improving, never stopping, always working harder and always dancing better.
During this time, I met a man, Jaiden Mortlock, who I quickly fell for, and began dating. It was a difficult international relationship, with Jaiden posted mostly in America, and me mostly in Russia. However, we made it work, and for several months, it was good. He was wonderful and treated me quite well.
For a little over a year, I was a prima ballerina for Bolshoi, and for a year, I was amazing. Finally, I was given the opportunity to star in the ballet I'd always dreamed of dancing: La Bayadere. It had always been a favorite of my mother's, and of mine, and while it was a difficult ballet to dance, I was happy to be finally obtaining my dreams. All the same, it was a horribly stressful role. Stress had been mounting for the past year or so. My life as a Prima Ballerina was taxing on my mind, body, and soul, with such little free time.
The opening night for La Bayadere came, and I once again stunned my audience with a beautiful dance. I had been working day and night on this, and my dedication and passion showed in my dancing. I was the star, and I was amazing, and the audience was not afraid to show its awe. I loved my life in that moment. I had Tibby, there as she had always been, sitting in the best seat in the house. I had Jaiden, sitting next to her. My life was going good, and I was happy. Sure, my father wasn't there— but I had come to expect him to not be there those days.
But in the final act, something happened. Perhaps it was all of the stress I had been under since accepting my role as a Principal dancer at Bolshoi. Perhaps it was the sadness that came over me that I had just danced my mother's favorite ballet as the star when she was no longer there to see me dance. Perhaps it was the sadness that always happened in the back of my mind when I finished another performance that my father did not show up to see. Perhaps it was the crowd, standing and cheering at me so loud I could hardly hear my labored breaths. They were particularly loud that day.
All of a sudden, I wasn't just hearing the cheers in the traditional sense. Suddenly, I heard the entire crowd inside of my head, a deafening roar echoing through a cavern that normally never experienced such a noise. It was like my head was filled to the brim with thoughts, and it felt like it would split apart.
I was later told that I screamed and dropped to the ground, and had to be carried off of the stage. I woke up in the hospital to warm faces and voices. Sadly, those were all masked by the sparks that filled my eyes and my brain, and the sweet unconsciousness that soon followed. I awoke in the hospital, still surrounded by voices. These were different, though. It wasn't a jovial din. It was a cacophony of misery, of fear, of pain. The sedatives and painkillers helped the pain, but I still couldn't get any peace.
Both Jaiden and Tibby tried to be there for me. They stayed with me whenever they could. Eventually, however, I drove the only friends that I had away. I couldn't handle it, hearing their thoughts. I couldn't handle hearing their pity, their frustration that I had changed so much overnight, their fear that I could indeed hear their thoughts. I couldn't handle hearing everything that went on in their heads. So I drove Tibby and Jaiden away.
After a week in the hospital and an inability to find anything wrong with me, I was finally given an SLC test as a final measure. It was positive, and I was registered with the French Government with a general label of 'Telepathie', or Telepathy, and was sent on my way home to my estate in Marseilles.There, I was given the chance to further explore the new ability I had. It seemed that they only happened when I was around other people. When I was completely alone, I had blessed quiet. When others came into range, I could quite literally hear their thoughts. On top of all of this, I could also send my thoughts to them. Most found this unnerving, and most of our staff took to avoiding me; my butler, Jules, stuck by me, as he always has stuck by my family, and as his father before him stuck by my family. He was the only one I could handle being around; for some reason, when I was around him, it was quieter. For that reason alone, I kept him with me as often as I could.
My father only visited me once, and he quickly left when his mind began to wander towards 'things I shouldn't know'. He's avoided me even more than before since I manifested.
I came to accept the rather harsh reality that I was one of those 'Evolved', as the Americans called it. A telepath. I wished that I wasn't. This had ruined my career! How could I go back out on the stage when I could so easily be caught in the midst of that horrifying experience of having so many thoughts echoing in my head?
It was by complete accident that I discovered the means to control my ability. When I dance, I go into a state of intense concentration, blocking out the rest of the world save for the music. I was dancing one day and was taken by surprise by our butler informing me of a phone call as if he expected me to know already. Eventually, I figured out how to apply the mindset I gained while dancing to my ability. It was a strain at first, but eventually, I managed to get a grip on the clamp that had to be held at all times.
After eight months of seclusion, I finally gained enough control over my ability to venture out into the real world. I found that simpler thoughts were easier to ignore, while more complex ones, like thoughts of intense emotional weight, were a bit easier to accidentally pick up on. Sometimes, even though I held my grip on my ability, thoughts still slipped through, though they were easier to ignore.
Finally, after a year of working with my ability, I decided to try and get out there on my own, and get out of the depressing emptiness that was our home. I needed to learn how to control my ability fully if I was ever to hope to return to Bolshoi. I put out a resume to the major dancing companies. Bolshoi offered to let me come back, but I knew that the only way I could return there would be to dance again.
It was American Ballet Theater that got its hooks in me. Certainly, New York was a painful place for me to be, and not the happiest one, either. It was here that my mother had died, here that my father's link to me died, or so it seems. But I had two places there: an apartment in the city, and a vacation home out in Montauk. And American Ballet Theater, while it suffered as much as any place in New York did under the effects of the bomb, was one of the most prominent dance companies in the world.
Besides, maybe I could do my part in being a good person by bringing dance into the lives of those in this god-forsaken city. That's what I like to think, at least.
And so, I took the job they offered as an instructor and choreographer. Part of the time, I taught at the academy connected to the theater, teaching students of all ages and experience levels the art of ballet, from beginners to experts who could dance nearly as well as me. The rest of the time, I was a choreographer, helping the dancers to learn their dances.
And of course, I would also dance on the side, as well; I have never quit dancing since I was three years old, and I wasn't about to let my ability ruin the one thing I did love. Occasionally, I would do guest performances, to test myself. I never did lose control, though I could always feel the whispers of thoughts nagging at the back of my mind.
Bolshoi's offer for me to return as a dancer has remained in place, and perhaps one day I will return there. For now, I am not ready to return to the spotlight of Russian Ballet. For now, I have taken up indefinite residence in New York, where I am slowly building up to the point where I can handle Bolshoi once more. My father and I haven't spoken for the past few years, save for a few brief, awkward phone conversations, ended prematurely on his end.
Remi is a distinguished young woman, and her general demeanor and personality vastly reflect her aristocratic upbringing. Remi is used to the finer things in life, and she's used to getting her way. She has been known to pout when the situation calls for it.
She's also quite used to using her looks and charming demeanor to her advantage and tends to be a bit of a flirt. She is most prone to flirting in situations where it is advantageous to her, when she does stand something to gain. Or, of course, if she sees someone who catches her eye.
Despite her frivolous outer shell, Remi is a hard-working woman, who believes that one should work to gain the things that they want or need. As a Prima Ballerina, she was expected to always work hard, and if she had a week to learn the third act of Giselle before performing it on stage, she got it done, and she got it done well. She is dedicated to her goals, and once she sets her mind to something, there is little that can be done to change her mind. Some would call her stubborn; she tends to view it as dedication.
She is also far more patient than she would seem at first. Perhaps a result of her background as a Prima Ballerina, combined with her upbringing, she is quite slow to anger. This is a good thing, as more intense emotional situations can disrupt her control, which is so utterly important to her sanity and health. She is quite steadfast and is talented at pushing onward even when it hurts too badly to keep going.
Speaking of, intense emotional situations can disrupt Remi's control over her ability. If she gets too upset or angry, she can lose that focus she keeps on her ability at all times, and her control can easily slip from her grasp. As a result, she's managed to develop a fairly thick skin and is not easily angered, out of survival more than anything else. Becoming angry or upset can result in Very Bad Things happening, so she tries her best to keep herself as calm as possible.
At her core, Remi is a nice young woman with a kind heart. However, her upbringing has somewhat molded her into a worthy daughter of the rich. She was raised with the control of a 15 million dollar estate in mind, as an only child. When it comes to money, she is very tight with it and very reluctant to part with it. Generosity does not come easily to Remi; she is very unlikely to lend money out, even if it is to a friend. She is much more receptive to business deals, money in exchange for something that benefits her and her estate in the long run.
She rather loathes her ability for all of the bad things it can do to her and does her best to keep a grip on it at all times. Yet at the same time, she is not afraid to use her ability to give her an upper hand in situations. It's a bit of a love/hate relationship that she has with her telepathy; it's extraordinarily useful, but it's difficult to control. She tries to keep her ability a secret from others; the only person who knows that she is a telepath is her cousin (Tibby), her father, Jaiden, and her butler.
Ideally, Remi just likes to be left alone. She enjoys trips on private jets and time spent in her larger, more secluded estates, just for the fact that there are fewer people. She avoids large crowds like a plague; they tend to make it much more difficult to tune out the thoughts, and she can lose control much easier. It's difficult enough, working in a ballet studio and training young dancers. Crowds are terrifying for the time being. She can tolerate company in small groups, but the more people, the more uncomfortable she is.
There is a soft side to her, though it's difficult to reach it, hidden as it is behind the layers of competitive aristocracy that are in her blood and have been trained into her since childhood. She can be extraordinarily kind when she wants to. It's just a matter of finding her when she's in the mood to be kindhearted.
Remi's apparent estrangement from her father is a source of stress in her life that Remi typically pushes off to the side in favor of more pleasant aspects of life. While she feigns apathy over the fact that her father quite simply doesn't talk to her, it affects her far more deeply than she would ever care to admit.
Registered Ability: Consensual Tactile Telepathy
When the Americans made her register to be able to work in their country, she opted to give them a much more dulled down display of her abilities. According to the Registry, Remi can create a mind link with someone via touch and communicate with them by speaking into their mind. According to her registration, it requires that her target be willing to communicate with her using that mode of conversation, otherwise, she is unable to hear their thoughts, instead only able to 'speak' to them.
Actual Ability: Telepathy
In all actuality, Remi is a much more powerful telepath than she has let on to the United States Government. She has the ability to hear the surface thoughts of people around her within a 50-foot radius, basically hearing the inner monologue of those around her.
Unlike other Evolved abilities, Remi's telepathy is always on. Every moment that she is conscious, she is able to hear the surface thoughts of everyone around her. Indeed, her mind acts almost as a 'radio' of sorts, streaming these surface thoughts into her head. She is able to competently handle the unfiltered thoughts of up to five people in her radius; any more than that, and things get a little too loud for her.
Conscious effort and concentration are required for Remi to tune out the thoughts of those around her, though not entirely; thoughts are still heard as soft 'whispers' within her mind. Over time, the whispers have become something she's grown accustomed to, and are more easily tuned out. However, while concentrating, she is still able to hear the 'louder' thoughts. Angry thoughts, fearful, elated, or any thoughts of an intense emotional nature, can easily be heard by Remi no matter how hard she concentrates.
Her concentration on blocking out these thoughts depends quite a bit on her remaining calm and level-headed at all times. When she herself begins to get angry or upset, she can often times lose control over her ability, and her 'walls' can crumble easily, leaving her vulnerable to a mental onslaught if this happens at the wrong place or the wrong time.
Using these same concentration techniques, Remi can focus on one target, and open her mind to their thoughts. This allows her to hear all surface thoughts as if they are being said out loud by her target. When combined with proper conversation, Remi can glean all sorts of information from a target, if she so wishes, listening in on initial thoughts to a question and comparing them to verbal responses.
Remi can actively project her thoughts to others. She can broadcast her thoughts to a room, or alternatively, send her thoughts to a singular target. Strangely enough, it is much more difficult to send her thoughts to a single person than it is to broadcast her thoughts to a room, the extra effort mostly coming from ensuring that no others can hear her thoughts. This works best when within roughly 25 feet of the target; further than that, and it is a bit less effective, though still difficult on an untrained mind. Another side effect of this is that she can quite literally scream into a target's mind, which can be fairly 'deafening' for an untrained mind. While she is unable to do damage, she is able to stun targets briefly, usually long enough for her to make a quick getaway. Sadly, when she loses her control over her ability, she also loses her ability to keep her thoughts to herself, quite literally, and tends to broadcast all of her thoughts openly as well.
Using touch, Remi can link her mind to another. This is a surefire way to ensure that nobody can hear a telepathic conversation between Remi and her target, the physical contact creating a closed connection between Remi and her target. This takes an intense amount of concentration, mostly to keep Remi and her target's minds from colliding and overloading both her and her target. While in this state, Remi can hold a conversation with a person in the privacy of their own minds. This action leaves her exhausted, however, and she does this as sparingly as possible.
Even more exhausting is the ability to, with enough will, mentally nudge a person toward a particular action. This aspect will easily knock Remi out if she attempts to do this more than once, and even doing it once leaves her with splitting migraines for two to three days afterward.
Through skin-to-skin contact, Remi can now see the thoughts and recollections of her targets. Through touch, Remi can see the imaginings and thoughts of a person as if she were thinking of them herself. This involves seeing whatever her target is thinking about; memories and imaginings, mostly. Remi certainly can not 'dig' yet; indeed, the only way to influence what she 'sees' is through conversation steering someone in a particular direction.
This amazing ability does not come without its disadvantages. Remi has to actively focus to keep herself from hearing the thoughts of those around her. If she loses her focus at any time, she can be privy to the mental onslaught of the thoughts of everyone within a 50-foot radius. This can result in splitting headaches, bleeding from the eyes, ears, and nose, blackouts, and if exposed to this onslaught for more than ten to fifteen minutes, eventually a coma can result. When she does lose control, she can recover her 'mental walls', though it takes a lot out of her doing as much, and she usually becomes quite frail afterward, typically has to go off to rest within an hour.
Another downside is that any sort of substance abuse inhibits her ability to keep thoughts blocked out. She typically has to abstain from alcohol and other drugs, simply because they can cause problems with her control or focus; alcohol is usually reserved for times when she is completely sure that she is alone. She also does her best to avoid large crowds, just in case.
And yet another downside is that she is actually unable to block her ability continuously; she requires rest from the concentration that it takes to keep her telepathy under control. This requires her to find an uninhabited corner of the world where she can simply let go for a while, usually for anywhere from an hour to eight hours, depending on how much exertion she's put on herself. It is in this time that she is most vulnerable, and while she can easily throw up her defenses, she can easily be caught unaware and overwhelmed by a group of people suddenly coming into her range.
On top of all of this, if she goes more than 12 hours without taking a rest, she can lose her capability to block others thoughts out. This can have very bad implication if her control gives out in the wrong place at the wrong time, and can result in Very Bad Things (mostly, a potentially comatose state).
Overexertion of any of these abilities and viewing others thoughts uncontrolled (more than the limits that have been posted) can result in loss of control, as well as increased pressure in her cranium. This can result in continual headaches, bleeding from the nose, eyes, and ears, and could eventually lead to a coma that can last anywhere from days to weeks, depending on the level of usage.
Appendices
Logs
Click here for Remi's log page.
Relationships
What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories. ~George Eliot
| Leon Davignon | Leon is Remi's father. She's always loved him, and always worked hard to live up to his standards, to impress him; he was always quite busy as she was growing up, but she still adored her father. After Victoria was killed in the bomb, he withdrew from his daughter. When her ability manifested, he distanced himself even further, refusing to even see her. Despite her father's distance, Remi still tries to maintain contact with him. Sadly, the contact is usually limited to short, awkward phone conversations. Recently, a few things have come to light that has made her question her father's true motives. |
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| Tibby | Tibby is Remi's cousin and best friend. The two girls all but grew up around each other, inseparable. Shopping trips in Prague, visits to the Davignon's vacation homes, throughout their life, Tibby has been a near-constant presence in Remi's life. Their relationship remained as such until Remi's ability manifested, at which point she drove her cousin away due to her own inability to cope with her newfound telepathy, despite her cousin's desire to help. |
Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…. It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. ~C.S. Lewis
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Liz is a strong, powerful woman, one whom Remi admires and respects; Remi has seen some of what Liz has lived through, and in graphic detail, as if she herself was able to experience it. She knows the pain Liz must deal with, the fear. Yet despite all of this, the audiokinetic continues to chug onward, fighting against the sources of her painful past. |
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Graeme and Remi were once roommates, in the good old days. Remi views him as her best friend, though circumstances have made their relationship tense at best, these days. He seems to think of her as incapable of handling the things that come at them in their new lives, and that irritates her more than anything else. She's also a bit jealous over his relationship with Liz. |
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Ziadie is a kindhearted old man with the ability to detect lies. He is still a new presence in Remi's life, but he is easy to trust. He also has a drinking problem, more than likely. |
Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold. ~Zelda Fitzgerald
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An incredibly sweet girl, and a more recent fling. Remi likes Elaine, though Elaine is much too tied up in other things for Remi to consider her in any truly serious way. |
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A love lost. Remi and Jaiden were an item years ago and were fairly close. Their breakup came not because of any reason in the actual relationship, but because of the manifestation of Remi's ability. Remi ran into Jaiden again, several years after their breakup. Love seems to be rekindling between the pair, and Jaiden has become Remi's rock in a storm. |
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An old fling from the days before Remi's manifestation. Remi was partying after a successful dance; Ygraine was partying after a successful…bike…thing. The parties converged, the ladies met, and it resulted in a night of fun. However, Ygraine was a bit on the sloshed side of things and forgot what had happened the night before. Remi has been through much with Ygraine in the past several months, and her adoration for the woman still remains. |
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Richard Cardinal is a definite curiosity to Remi. He's secretive, he's as good at keeping his thoughts distracted as her roommate is getting. Remi has recently found from an outside source exactly why Richard is so interesting. He's one of the central hubs of this underground war she keeps hearing about. She's also hired him to provide personal security; originally it was on the pretense to flirt with him more, but in the wake of Sylar's attack on her, it seems to be a good idea in general. Too bad he disappeared… |
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Remi is still unsure what to think of the boy. She likes him, certainly, but at the same time, he can be a little prick when he gets in the right kind of mood. Hopefully, the two will be able to come to trust each other with time. |
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He's not so much unlikable as he is surly. Rotten little teen's boyfriend(?) |
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Rotten Little Teen. |
There's nothing certain in a man's life except this: That he must lose it. ~Aeschylus, Agamemnon
| Victoria Davignon | Remi's mother was a light in her life; despite the fact that her mother was busy, Remi still loved her, and they were still quite close. Victoria was the founder of Davignon Fashion, one of the top names in fashion, and for good reason. She was a strong, hard-working woman, and a gentle mother at the same time. Sadly, she was in her office when the midtown bomb hit; her building is now a crater in midtown. Remi took it hard when her mother died, and still hasn't quite recovered. |
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Skills
- Acting
- Athlete
- Charm
- Dancer
- Dedication
- Filthy Rich
- Grin and Bear It
- Kind of Famous
- Property
- Tri-Lingual
| Acting | As a ballerina, Remi was required to learn a certain amount of acting to properly portray her roles. Expression and body language are everything in a world without words like ballet, and the proper portrayal of a character depends heavily on these things. Being a former Prima Ballerina, Remi is a master of making her facial expressions and body language match a tone. This makes her quite a good actress, in fact, and she is able to put on a face when she must. |
| Athlete | Despite her willowy frame and seemingly delicate appearance, don't be fooled: Remi, as a Prima Ballerina, was and still is a world-class athlete. Ballet is not an easy dance, and it only becomes more difficult as pointe work enters the picture. Remi is incredibly fit, with very little in the way of body fat, and muscles that are strong yet lean. She is quite lithe and graceful on her feet and rarely misses a step. She is also horribly flexible, able to move in ways that most people would strain to move in. She also has quite a high stamina, still quite able to dance an entire leading role in a ballet and make it look easy. |
| Charm | Remi is an expert at the art of charming people. It helps that with concentration, she can see what she needs to do to further charm her targets; people tend to imagine what they would like, which is helpful. |
| Dancer | Remi was, for over a year, a Prima Ballerina for Bolshoi Ballet Academy in Moscow, Russia; before that, she had been in strict ballet training since the age of 10; even before that, she was in ballet lessons since the age of three. When it comes to ballet, she is a master; she is also accomplished in many other forms of dance and choreography. |
| Dedication | When she sets her mind to something, Remi does not give up. She will work herself to the bone to obtain whatever it is she is after. Similarly, she is very stubborn, and it is exceedingly difficult to convince her to change her mind on a subject once she has resolved to do something. |
| Filthy Rich | Remi's parents developed a multimillion-dollar empire, with an extremely popular brand of designer label clothing on her mother's end, and a corporate empire with its fingers in multiple forums (what, Remi doesn't know, nor does she care!) from her father's end. Both companies would be rich on their own; together, they make the Davignon family name a fairly wealthy, powerful name. Her family estate is estimated to be worth roughly 15 million dollars, all under the control of her father. Remi does not have access to all of this money, however; she is limited to an allowance of $2500 a week. While this seems like a lot for most people, for Remi, it is but a pittance. Add to this the (rather paltry) paycheck she gets from ABT (roughly $30,000 a year), and Remi makes roughly $150K a year. |
| Grin and Bear It | Remi is a master at the art of grinning and bearing it. She can get blisters, split toenails, and other generally painful conditions that result from dancing on the tips of the toes, and she can dance on those wounded feet with a charming smile on her face. She can dance so hard that she is out of breath and ready to keel over but still appear as still and calm as ever while the crowd applauds her efforts. Remi's pain tolerance is exceptionally high as a result of her hard training as a dancer. She's very good at pretending she isn't in pain. |
| Kind of Famous | Davignon is a big name in the fashion world. Remi may receive recognition based on her last name alone. She has also seen her fair share of fame and has been featured in international tabloids and magazines since she was a youth, generally in pictures with her parents (though she has modeled some of her mother's clothing in the past!). She was also a world-class ballerina! |
| Property | At Remi's disposal are three separate properties; she has her estate in Marseilles, France, a swanky apartment in New York City, and a vacation home in Montauk. She has a personal car in New York to drive, a BMW X6 (which is her pride and joy). |
| Tri-Lingual | Remi was raised to be able to competently communicate in both French and English, for the sake of her family, and is thus fluent in both. As a result of being in Russia for so much of her life, she is also fairly passable at speaking Russian; while she's not completely fluent, she can certainly hold a conversation, if not a limited one. |
Gallery
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