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[attr="id","cerberuscol"]ELIZABETH DELACROIX

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[attr="id","cerberuscol"]i need my golden crown of sorrow, my bloody sword to swing

Your blood is the blood of kings. You are an off-shoot of a family that is the Vale, and everything that belongs to it underneath the divine right of kings. By all that is ordained and right, you should be the head of your house by now; one of the wealthiest women in the Vale, the most respected of noble houses and a frightening presence. Your family has always made for fine members of the Cavalry, decorated in myth and legend. The Delacroix family were all that was good about the Vale, glimmering and golden amongst the city's troubles and strife.[break][break]

And you, the eldest daughter of the Mistress of House Delacroix, Elizabeth Arlette Delacroix, were no different. Your mother had raised your entire life for this; a beautiful, delicate lady with burning red eyes and an indomitable spirit. Nothing less than perfection was acceptable, and you internalized everything that she said, every comment, every slight, every notion of grandeur and greatness. It was simple: the Vale was yours, your family’s, for the taking. [break][break]

All that you had to do was shine, brighter than the brightest star. Burn hotter than the sun. And by the gods - were you willing to burn til not a cinder remained. [break][break]

You joined the Cavalry. You mingled in high society. People loved you, as graceful and dignified as you were. How could they not? Whenever you appeared at court, you would make all eyes look towards you, and you would bask in their praise and fawning with delight. This is what Eliza had been born for after all, a role that was perfectly crafted for you to fit in. For a time, your life was a perfect one, and you adored the glitter and glamour of the high life.

[attr="id","cerberuscol"]my empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology

It came crashing down when you realised there was an uglier side to your brilliance. You’d always fancied yourself the knight in the fairytales, rather than the princess. You’d always wondered what another lady’s skin felt like, what it might be like to share a kiss with another woman rather than a man. These desires were never voiced, because to question the authority of your mother, your house, was unfathomable. You were Elizabeth Arlette Delacroix. To marry and continue the family was always something you were expected to do, a duty that you couldn’t escape no matter how popular and talented and brilliant you were.[break][break]

In fact, your brilliance only helped to get your hand sold to another.[break][break]

All of your maidservants blushed and fawned over him; another man of noble birth, a well-respected officer of the cavalry. He tried to sweep you off your feet, so to speak, at a ball. Out of politeness, you allowed him to take your hand and twirl you around the ballroom, spending the entire evening making polite conversation. Underneath the stars, in the garden of the Royal Palace, you unwittingly sold your hand to the man who would soon become your husband.[break][break]

The fact that you said no - that never mattered. After all, you were never asked. You came home from work one day, still dressed in your uniform and stressed from a long day to find him sitting in the parlour with your mother. He slipped a ring onto your finger, a beautiful diamond ring that shone in the light, and you felt sick as he proposed. The entire affair only lasted a month, a beautiful marriage in which you gave away everything that you had ever known in exchange to give your hand to this man.[break][break]

Your marriage was not happy, but you endured it. Work became your escape, and you avoided him as much as possible. He was eight years your senior, and the brewings of a revolution kept him busy. It kept you busy too, focusing your disgust and distaste on the rats that dared to even attempt to upset the natural order. The monarchy was good for the Vale, and democracy didn’t matter. Freedom didn’t matter either, as long as order was maintained.[break][break]

You had to convince yourself that. Your feelings didn’t matter, even as he talked about children and such. Your heart had to wither, to do what you needed to do.

[attr="id","cerberuscol"]what strange claws are these, scratching at my skin?

But your heart refused to wither and die, no matter how hard you tried. There were a number of people through the years that cut through the carefully built ice around you - most notably, a younger woman in your unit that looked at you like you put the stars in the sky. She wasn’t a highborn noble, her blood certainly didn’t run with the blood of kings like yours. She was ordinary in every sense of the word, average and plain.[break][break]

Average that was to everyone but you. You felt something that you’d never felt before. It had certainly bloomed before, when you saw your particularly pretty friends wearing their beautiful ball gowns or when one of your particularly attractive maidservants would help you fix your makeup, fawning about how pretty you were. You only realised it when this girl, grateful for you saving her life from rebellion forces, placed a kiss on your lips.[break][break]

You had never felt anything like this before. Not when your husband kissed you.[break][break]

You never saw her again. You would give anything to see her again.

[attr="id","cerberuscol"]i never knew my killer would be coming from within

You were forced to resign from your position in the cavalry. Your husband restricted your staff. He was even more insistent that you spend all of your time with him - and he grew just as cruel as your mother over time. Only when your mother was cruel and callous, you believed that it was teaching you an important lesson.[break][break]

You hated him. He was beginning to go grey, and you were still a beautiful woman in your prime. [break][break]

He did not survive the revolution. You wept no tears.

[attr="id","cerberuscol"]i was never as good as i thought i was, i just knew how to dress it up

After the revolution, you were forced to flee Vale. Although you claim that it was because of the fact that your family would become the target of assassins or that you could not stand the city to forsake it’s rulers like it did or the way that the calvary abandoned everything that it stood for - there are rumours. You’ve always done an excellent job at ignoring those rumours.[break][break]

You had the money to live a comfortable life in Delphi. If you wanted, you never had to lift a finger again and could simply haunt the grounds of one of the estates in the Vulcan Highlands. Such a life was abhorred by yourself, so you pledged your allegiance to Cerberus. They stood for order like you always had, the wall against the encroaching entropy of chaos.[break][break]

Your face fits here, and your experience with the Cavalry works well with your experiences in Cerberus. If you were a believer in things such as fate, you might say that everything in your life was leading up to the moment that you became a knight of the round table - shedding off the mantle of the past for a brand new mantle that was dedicated to the peace and strength of your new home. It doesn't have to be that bad that you lost everything about your old life if you can forge something new from this one.[break][break]

You are Elizabeth Arlette Delacroix - Lancelot. You are an acolyte of Cerberus, chosen for your fierce devotion, authority and unyielding principles. ]