babette adele laroux

[BABETTE ADELE LEROUX]

"I've been burnt by you before!" - Babette

NAME: Babette Adele Laroux
NICKNAMES: Babs, Bette
AGE: 24
BIRTHDAY: December 15th
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
NATIONALITY: French
OCCUPATION: Maid
PLAYED BY: Natalia Vodianova
DISNEY: Babette the Featherduster
USER GROUP: Sex Symbol

PERSONALITY !

SEDUCTIVE! While flirtatious is an apt description of Babette’s wooing techniques, it is quite possibly too weak of a word to truly describe the way she operates. Sex appeal is everything to Babs, it’s in her very DNA. It’s in the way she walks, the way she talks, and the way she handles men. Instead of harmless eyelash flutters and vague compliments, Babette is much more obvious with her intentions. If she cannot show what she means, why bother at all? It isn’t that she is hanging out of her clothing and making lewd gestures towards the men she desires. In fact, it’s very hard to describe in what ways exactly that she is seductive as it has become so second nature to her that even she hardly notices. But along with being seductive there comes some very heavy downfalls. Rejection, stripped raw of it’s niceties and all the ‘letting you down easy’ bits, is something Babette cannot fathom, let alone learn to handle. She intends to have what and who she wants whenever she may want it.

BOISTEROUS! The dictionary defines boisterous in two ways:  marked by or expressive of exuberance and high spirits as well as stormy and tumultuous. To say that Babette Laroux doesn’t fit both descriptions almost perfectly would be akin to telling a big, fat, stinky lie. On any given good day, Babs can be found happily humming as she works, smiling and laughing and being in genuine good spirits when she’s with her friends. But on the days that aren’t so good, the days in which Babette is dealing with whatever absurd thing she has found wrong with herself and the world, it’s as if a giant black cloud is hanging overhead and Babette is the bolt of lightning and the downpour of rain making everything gloomy, chaotic and unhappy. Fittingly, Babette has always described her moods as a little kid flipping a lightswitch on and off, over and over, never settling between light or dark.


INSECURE! Insecurity is about more than someone doubting their outward appearance. It’s one of those things that is most commonly misunderstood and chalked up to low self esteem. It’s not always like that though. It’s not always the disease of a sixteen year old girl who isn’t everyone else’s idea of perfect. It’s more a feeling of inadequacy and worthlessness. It is feeling unloved even in situations where someone is telling you exactly how much they care about you. On the outside Babette doesn’t look like an insecure person. She exudes a certain confidence and happiness that would never give away how she feels on the inside. Her insecurity is more like a constant doubt, a dismissal even, of the way the people around her perceive her. Perhaps she is too annoying, too loud and energetic. Perhaps no one likes her at all. She is constantly questioning her actions and emotionally punishing herself for them when no one is around. Needing almost constant approval, it is hard for Babette to create lasting relationships of any kind without royally messing them up in desperate attempts to make herself feel the way she thinks she should.



QUIRKS: Gets the nervous giggles, speaks French in her sleep, has stuffed animals whose names rhyme with hers (Annette, Odette, Collette, ect).

LIKES: Pastries, people, fashion magazines, night time, movies with subtitles, teacups, colored pencils, romantic men, dark chocolate, cleaning.
DISLIKES: Messes, her father's view of her, feeling insecure, red crayons, candle wax on tableclothes, forgetting the right English words, screamy music, tights as pants, rejection, weak coffee.

HISTORY !

Babette Adele Laroux, daughter of Thomas and Eva Laroux whose home sat on an easily forgotten street in an easily forgotten town bordering the brightly lit city of Paris, was easily forgotten. Overshadowed constantly by sisters who could do no wrong, Babette grew up a quiet, self kept child. Her sisters played instruments, learned classical music, studied art and foreign languages and then ditched it all for boys in berets and Babette watched. It was kind of odd, Babs as a child. She understood that her siblings were older, that they deserved to live and learn and make mistakes. The one thing she didn’t understand was why they had to do it while she sat on the sideline, learning secondhand from their experiences. The age gap explained it most of the time. Babette was a mere child and her sisters were blossoming into women. Experience came with age. It would never be Babette’s turn to be the one doing things first hand until her sisters were gone off to wherever it was that children went when they got too big for their dolls and too tall for their beds.

Luckily for Babette that time came sooner than she expected and just as her sisters were rushed out the door she was alone. She was allowed freedom from the cage they had kept her in. There were no more sidelines, just frontlines. It was a fast and bumpy transition from quiet child to wild teenager. But just as fast as Babette found her own boys in berets smoking cigarettes down to the filter and sipping from bottles of booze filched from fancy liquor cabinets she was facing the same thing her siblings had. Was it all really over that quickly? What felt like ages watching her siblings become young women felt like only weeks to Babette. But when she asked her father if she really had to go away to school, he was quick to let her know that she shouldn’t worry too much about schooling. For certainly a girl as pretty and well behaved as Babette had proven to be would find a husband in no time and the need for an education would be no more. This didn’t do much more than anger Babette. So she went to university, but not for long.

After the first semester of her second year, following a heated phone call with her parents, Babette suddenly dropped all of her classes. Her things were packed in an angered hurry and without much discussion of where she was going she was gone. Fantasia City was the place to be, she’d heard. She had friends here already. Ones she’d met in school, ones she’d met on the plane and in the train.

But now that seemed like millions of years ago. And in the brightly lit hallways of La Bete, even on the busiest of days, Babette Laroux was once again easily forgotten.

SAMPLE !

It was hot. Even though most places were welcoming spring, glad to see that the winter had cleared away and the weather was beginning to reach near comfort, Eli had always noticed that Graham seemed to be a little hotter, dustier, than most places. Perhaps it was just memories of days passed that dwelled in the beads of sweat dripping down his neck. Old memories. Ones of sweltering days borrowing his dad’s pickup truck to ride around town in, with the AC busted and the windows rolled down, finding anything and everything to do on the days he wasn’t busy trying to impress the smartest girl he had ever known. Maybe it was nervous sweat, like the kind he built up the first time he sat in the captain’s seat of his grandpa’s little plane. The kind of sweat one would build up walking into town once considered home after years of trying to be anywhere else. Either way, it was sweat. And it was sweat because it was hot, if it be in Eli’s imagination or if the sun just shined a little brighter on the Texas town he was born and raised in. He remembered it being hot. Hotter than any place he’d been since.

He’d been home awhile now, a few days, a few weeks. Losing count of where he had been and how long was one of Eli’s greatest flaws. Keeping track of himself was a chore, one he didn’t keep up with. He’d spent months in different places not knowing what day of the week it was. Being held responsible for knowing what date he’d rolled back into town or how long he had been staying in his parent’s guest room (after he’d left home his bedroom was turned into a lounge for his dad and all his belongings boxed and pushed to the back of storage shed that sat in their yard) waiting for the day he was supposed to start his job was something he hadn‘t even thought about. Due to move into an apartment, furnished - although he’d spend most of his days outside the constricting walls that anyone else his age would be proud to call home - and ready for his arrival, things were looking steady for Eli Black. And being perfectly honest, Eli Black was anything but steady.

With his hand wrapped tight around the neck of a Blue Moon bottle, the amber glass reflecting dim lights and casting a light shadow against the skin of his arm, and his face turned down to bar in front of him Eli was settled. How long had it been since he’d been a regular anywhere? How long had it been since he’d been able to walk into a place and have everyone know who he was, apart from being the stranger, and welcome him with a smiling face? He reckoned seventeen was the last time anyone gave a damn about where he was. Not that he helped the cause considering as soon as he was legal he left and rarely spoke to anyone from home. He’d come home a couple of times for holidays. A Christmas here and an Easter there. But staying somewhere for a night didn’t make it your home. That was something Eli had learned. Home was where things felt right, where you just wanted to be because it was a place you loved. It didn’t matter if you had things or ties or if you had nothing at all. Hell, all Eli had at the moment was the beer in his hand and the thoughts in his head and for a split second he felt like he might be home.

He felt tense. Every part of him wanted to relax but something was keeping him from doing so. He imagined it had something to do with potentially facing people he’d left behind, people he hadn’t talked to in so long. As long as he was here there was forever the chance that he would run into someone he’d once known, once gotten along with, and he would have to field questions about where he’d gone and why and what ‘great adventures’ he’d gone on. Can one truly have great adventures when they are doing nothing but searching? The beads of sweat trailing down his neck eventually soaked into the collar of the black shirt stretched over his tensed up torso. Part of him wanted to flee but mostly he wanted to relax. An odd push and pull of what he did and didn’t want raged on inside of him and all Eli could do was look up and tilt the neck of his empty beer bottle toward the bartender in a gesture all too familiar. Another, please. He was staying.

ABOUT YOU!

OHHAITHUR, I'M JESSE AND I'M A PRETTY FLY PERSON. I'M TWENTY, BUT DON'T FRET YO, I THINK THIS PLACE IS AMAZING. I'M SO GLAD I FOUND IT THROUGH A COMPLICATED MATING RITUAL. OH, AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE DISNEY MOVIE IS ALICE IN WONDERLAND

[. NIKKI MOUSE]

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