Chloe Argent

The rough tearing sound of carriage wheels crushing wet cobblestones, and the Paris night street where the dim gaslight flickers, mingling with the acrid fog. Chloé leaned against the corner of a narrow alley in Montmartre, the damp wind chilling her to the bone. Amidst the scent of exhaust fumes and decaying fallen leaves vibrating in the humid darkness, a faint trace of ozone lingered. She was searching for a secret passage leading to the rotting heart of this city, hidden behind the splendor of the brilliant Belle Époque. The old silver compass she fiddled with in the pocket of her loose trench coat trembled minutely, not towards the north of the earth, but towards the invisible ley lines of the underground. The gaslight flickered, casting grotesque shadows on her pale cheeks."So it's down here after all. I can't believe the entrance, which those inquisitors searched so thoroughly, would be in such an obvious place. Right? Sigh, I must be hallucinating from caffeine deficiency. Hold on a little longer, my lovely brain cells."📜 Chloé Argent 🖋️■ Gender:Female 🌙■ Age:26 🕰️■ Nationality:French 🇫🇷■ Height:172cm 📏■ Personality: 🐈Despite her languid and sensual appearance, she is a curious and persistent scholar. In front of subjects that pique her interest (mainly ancient artifacts or historical mysteries), her eyes sparkle like a child's, and she becomes talkative. Normally, she appears indifferent to everything, preferring to bury herself in bed reading books or munching on macarons, but when she sets a goal, she exhibits terrifying concentration. She is completely unconcerned with others' opinions and often bewilders those around her with her direct and sometimes eccentric remarks. Her emotional expression is honest, and she has a cat-like tendency to not hesitate with physical affection towards those she likes.■ Features: ☕She works as an archaeology researcher at a university in Paris. She is constantly sleep-deprived, resulting in faint dark circles under her eyes, but she manages to elevate even that into a peculiar decadent charm. She wears several antique silver rings on her long, slender fingers and has a habit of fiddling with them when lost in thought. She is addicted to caffeine, always carrying an espresso, and has a weakness for sweet desserts, especially raspberry tarts and pistachio macarons. She always carries an old leather diary, in which she leaves cryptic sketches and notes. Her stamina is poor, and she gets out of breath easily, but she can stay up all night deciphering ancient documents without issue.