Véronique Delagrotte

Alchemist - Private Detective - Red Mage

"It would hit you like poison, if you knew what I knew, you would be angry, too."
Lola Blanc, "Angry too"

Gallery

"I knew a girl once, with fire in her eyes, a face like painted glass, and a knife strapped to her thigh."
Coyote Kid, "Femme Fatale"

Characteristics

Alignment:
Chaotic GoodAge:
42 (Name day unknown)Body:
LitheHeight:
6'7Hair:
Snow WhiteEyes:
Snow White (right eye), Coal Grey (left eye, magitek but made to look organic)Skin:
Pale GreyScent:
Patchouli, fogweed, moko and gunpowderPersonality Archetype:
ISTP-T - The VirtuosoLikes:
Training alone, Intrigue, Altruism, Political Anarchy, SmokingDislikes:
Garlemald, Authority, Sweets, Sparring/'Friendly' combat, Arrogance, Exploitation, PeopleSexuality:
Polyamorous Panromantic (Femme preference)

Extroverted / In Between (Ambivert) / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between / Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard-working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

FFXIV Job(s):
Red Mage/Viper/Rogue/Machinist/Alchemist5e Class:
Ranger Gloomstalker/Rogue ThiefPathfinder Class:
Magus Sword SaintVtM Clan:
Tremere or Brujah

"Sitting on a chaise, I'm catching information on this stupid place. Maybe in another life I fought a war and had a hundred wives. It’s not easy, they say it’s easy, but I’d rather be stuffed and roasted - I know that would please me! You don’t see me, you think you see me, but I’m rabid and hibernating simultaneously."
The Vincent Black Shadow, "Stupid Intruders"

Delagrotte's Decoctions

Half of all profits go directly into reputable charities to feed and home those in need in Ul'dah

Liquor (Highlighted Assortment)

The Finest
Smooth, Notes of Leather, Tobacco, and Petrichor, Top Shelf - 90 proof whiskey
Available by the barrel or in bottlesAll-day Rye
Strongly spiced, Pungent, Top Shelf - 90 proof whiskey
Available by the barrel or in bottlesWanderers and Travelers (Stylized as WATS)
Lightly spiced, Smooth, Vanilla notes - 70 proof rum
Available by the barrel or in bottlesRed Magic
Rolanberry, Fogweed, and Moko. Might get you high, will definitely get you drunk - 100 proof moonshine
Available by the barrel or in a jar with preserved rolanberriesEffluvium
Difficult to drink, medical grade disinfectant, rub it on your gaping wounds - 190 proof neutral spirit
Available by the barrel

Herbs (Highlighted Assortment)

White Magic
Calm nerves, Worry less, Lower social anxiety
Available as herb or vialBlack Magic
Increase creativity, lower social anxiety, sharper focus
Available as herb or vialTo the Moon
Highly psychoactive, will send you to the moon, will not make you a loporrit, you're going to go to sleep soon
Available as herb or vialThree Lalafell in a Trenchcoat
A hybrid of the first three strains -surprisingly balanced
Available as herb or vial

"Does the reward outweigh the risk? Well I'm on the fence. Is a numbing normalcy on tap worth a week trembling and sick?"
Days N Daze, "My Darling Dopamine"

A frown like a hairless cat

Venoix Delagrotte was the youngest of eight, though from the very moment of birth the wrinkled little head already betrayed an old soul - and one sick of it, even his father was briefly convinced that the baby was perhaps just a gray walnut. Unfortunately while a family of ten could have been quite successful in what remained of the Gelmorran networks, the Delagrottes were exiles, and V was the first child new to the situation. The one they knew they couldn't feed. Those few first years weren't terrible, V's mother seemed desperate to drill as much Gelmorran language and even the family's personal slang into his head as possible - anyone who didn't know better may think she was trying to raise an author or a historian. His parents never drew blood when they fought, and only one of his siblings died that he knew of, though four of them went away to 'work camp'.One day, that changed rather abruptly when the toddler was dragged out of the cave by the arm, his mother in a desperate hurry to eject him, nearly throwing the child to his father who was in discussion with a three-eyed man in a black suit. Very little of what was being discussed made sense to him, the language was different, mom never spoke like that. Mother Delagrotte helped convince the Garlean that V was perfect - unusually powerful aether, natural aptitude for magic, has already killed a grown man and didn't flinch - though V couldn't understand enough to try to be offended - he could in fact barely walk and collapsed against his father's leg through the rest of the discussion.It was the last time V would see either of them.

The loss of agency and personhood

The pages have been burnt to ash.

Garlemald vs Garlemald

The pages have been burnt to ash.

The Decade of Blood

Freedom. Pure freedom. Confusing freedom. What could V do? What should V do? For a time living in the wilds was enough, wandering the lands from Garlemald to Gridania. V learned what was safe to eat, how to cook something that wasn't safe but was no longer optional, where to take shelters, how to defend from and make use of local wildlife.Then Garleans started moving. As they expanded outwards, V came across more and more patrols, quickly constructed outposts, temporary camps... it was an opportunity. Garlemald turned V into a predator, a beast with one drive and one set of skills, and it was only fitting it was yet again aimed back into their faces. Stalk the troops. Destroy supply transports. Poison the food supply. Pick off stragglers and outliers. Put the corpses in the food stores and barracks. If the location got too hot or V had to move on, it was never without ensuring one of the higher ranking officers was gutted and displayed as a warning. V was far too good at this, it felt far too natural. It seemed as if this was what V was always meant to be.The pain was inescapable, V began drinking heavily, at first just picking up stray supplies and then relying on it as the only comfort in life. Moons of time were complete blurs. Nothing felt good. Nothing felt fine. The reflection in the water was wrong. "This is not me."

Bullets and bounties

Ul'dah. For a time V tried to integrate into society without too much outside help. A feral beast trying to learn which way to hold the fork or who you weren't supposed to stab. Countless arguments and frustrations about why a gunshot wasn't a proper response to an insult. Bastards, backstabbers, two-faced cowards. It was time to focus on work, time to be a professional. Bounty Hunting was the obvious fit, it was like assassination but legal! True, there wouldn't always be a corpse at the end of the day but it was familiar, natural.This is when V got married for the first time, a wildwood pirate with an accent so deeply Limsan that half the time they simply chose not to understand one another. It was young love, passionate, naïve, but it was love. Four moons from the wedding the seas took her away for good.There was a whirlwind of success in those early days, skills speak for themselves even if you don't have the social skills to sell yourself. Delagrotte's Finest distillery was born, whiskey was such a passion and addiction in V's life that it had to be expressed to its fullest. Creating the perfect whiskey was an art form, an expression of one's soul, and if the gil from bounties ever started to dry up something tasteless and strong enough to get a primal drunk was always profitable.Friends were made - sometimes - and lost - always. Allagans, echoes, ashkin. The star was a lot more unusual than V had initially thought.

Revelations and transformations

The end of days, or, the near end of days, or, the entirely not the end of days. V was not even aware of what had happened for a time. Monsters were cropping up left and right but all V knew was the high of vengeance. Justice. It was a long meandering return trip from Garlemald where a trail of bodies lie behind, the most important of them - the Handler. It wasn't a simple assassination, as it should have been, it was a prolonged scrap, a foolish bout of pride that prompted V to destroy him in a fair fight. The climax of which involved one large thumb crushing V's left eye with another hand choking out all hint of breath. Instincts. Most animals would protect their breath, their sight. No. V was an apex predator, cold blooded and then trained to be more cruel. Surrendering the eye to being completely crushed and almost too much breath to pull it off, the feint followed with a desperate stretch to one of the many knives displaced by the battle and the Handler was disemboweled. It was over.The relief was inescapable, but still V was drinking more and more. Nothing felt good. Nothing felt fine. The reflection was still wrong. "This is not me."By virtue of getting to know people who had gone through some of the same feelings... V started getting ideas, feelings, bone shaking realizations. "That is not me. But I think I can be me." Black market Garlean doctors, aetherial reconstruction, a series of nearly fatal alchemical treatments. Venoix Delagrotte was dead. Veronique Delagrotte was born.Nothing about the process or the changes were easy and some of them were shockingly unexpected. One partner of hers at the time sent someone to kill her, and then soon after died of illness. For the first time in her life, she felt whole and like herself, and though she would joke about it, it never stopped bothering her that having the audacity to seek happiness almost got her killed - and seemingly caused someone to expire from outrage.

Veronique Delagrotte, Private Eye

After a time and a number of social falling outs, adjusting to her new life, and betrayals... Veronique took a deep breath and made another change. Bounty hunting was often in service of the corrupt, focused on catching or killing exclusively... it simply wasn't fulfilling - either it never was or she began to develop a deeper connection to the fact that what she wanted most was to help people. She still couldn't stand most of them, but helping them was nice. A deep breath, a new direction, a private investigator. It was boring. Mostly. Infidelity and lost family members. Though at least it utilized her skills and had the promise of leading her to good deeds. Good enough for now.

Delagrotte's Decoctions

Veronique went sober. That is to say, she quit drinking, and picked up making her own blends of Fogweed, Moko grass, and hemp to soothe her mood swings and temper. It seemed to have worked, so much so that her newfound drugs of choice inspired her to take another step. For years it seemed as if her distillery was enough to keep her afloat - pay the bills, donate to the less fortunate - and it was time for her to admit maybe she belongs in the world of business rather than adventure. It was time to expand.Luckily enough there was a sudden trend of island land available for purchase and she dove in, purchasing land to grow her own grains and vegetables for liquor production as well as her own herbs for smoking and distilling into potion form. It was time to break bad - or at least, start making significant revenue by producing and selling drugs that were legal in Eorzea. So Delagrotte's Finest became Delagrotte's Delights.

"Tomorrow never dies"

The future hasn't happened yet, you silly moogle.
(This carrd is at the element cap, there will be no new history entries!)

"Oh, I got troubles that won't let me be, but I won't get tired, set the town on fire 'till my troubles got trouble with me."
Grandson, "Bury Me Face Down"

"I'm not a dog, I don't respond to a whistle. I tell you, 'Stop', but you never get the signal."
tiLLie, "flip a switch"