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Océane de Léry

Art

Océane de Léry
“There are whole oceans inside me, and still I am waiting for someone who will not drown.”

Basic Information
Full Name: Océane Marguerite de Léry
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her
Birthplace: Versailles, France
Current Residence: A stately Parisian apartment nestled near Rue de Varenne, behind iron gates and white shutters
Languages: French (native), English (fluent, with a heavy French accent)
Occupation: Painter (secretly exhibiting under a pseudonym), ceremonial socialite by familial expectation

Appearance
Hair: A pale honey-blonde, soft and sea-swept in texture. It falls in loose waves to her mid-back, often worn half-up with pins or loosely gathered in a ribbon.
Eyes: A luminous, sea-glass blue—gentle, wide, and eternally searching. They hold the weight of dreams she hasn’t given up on.
Skin: Porcelain with a moon-pale undertone, unblemished but prone to subtle blushes of emotion.
Height: 5’7”
Build: Slender and graceful, with the poise of a woman raised to glide rather than walk. Her every movement is fluid, like water shifting in a quiet tidepool.
Style: Ethereal and timeless. She dresses in flowing fabrics—soft ivory silks, faded roses, pale blues. There’s a haunting elegance to her style, like she’s stepped from another era. Long skirts, vintage collars, and delicate jewelry—save for her wedding ring, which she no longer wears unless in public.

Background
Family: The de Léry lineage is old and storied. Their influence stems from generations of curated elegance and rigid tradition. Océane was raised in a world where rebellion was shunned and composure was currency.
Marriage: She was wed at 20 to Julien Arnaud, a distant but presentable man from a similarly prestigious family. The match was forged from legacy, not affection. Julien’s affections quickly turned elsewhere—mistresses, business ventures, evenings spent anywhere but home. Océane’s marriage bed has been cold for years, though she still sometimes leaves the light on.
Education: Privately educated in philosophy, literature, and art. She was allowed to “dabble” in painting until it became her silent escape. Now, she paints fervently—though still in secret.

Personality
Core Traits: Dreamlike, introspective, resilient, endlessly romantic
Disposition: Océane is the embodiment of longing given grace. Though quiet in nature, her interior life is stormy—full of yearning, color, and the ache of restrained hope. She believes in soulmates, in secret messages from the universe, in love that transcends circumstance.
Strengths: Deep emotional perception, artistry, refined empathy, loyalty that doesn’t fracture under pressure
Flaws: Avoids confrontation to preserve peace, overly idealistic, allows herself to wither quietly rather than rebel aloud
Beliefs: She does not believe that marriage is the end of her story—only the pause before something deeper. Her world may be cold, but her heart is not.

Artistic Identity
Medium: Oil paints, watercolors, and gold leaf accents
Style: Romantic impressionism fused with subtle surrealism. Her work often features faceless figures dissolving into waves, blurred hands reaching through fog, or hearts symbolized through seashells and sunlit windows.
Themes: Longing, absence, soft grief, the contrast of tenderness in sterile spaces.
Pseudonym: She signs her work as L. Miroir, a poetic nod to "the mirror"—suggesting she reflects lives she cannot live.
Studio: Hidden behind an old linen closet door on the apartment’s upper floor, she transformed an unused sitting room into a haven of natural light, stacked canvases, and ocean-themed records spinning softly on an old player. The room smells of lavender oil and turpentine.

Voice & Speech
Accent: Her French accent in English is heavy and lyrical, often charming to listeners even when her words are sad. She pronounces “th” softly, replaces “h” sounds with slight breathiness, and speaks slowly to choose the most beautiful word.

Current Emotional State
Océane is quietly unraveling, caught between obligation and the yearning for true connection. Her optimism remains intact, but it is fragile—like glass on the verge of shattering. She sleeps in silk sheets, but dreams of barefoot dances through fields. Despite abandonment, she still lights candles at dinner. She still listens to records for two. She still hopes. She is a hopeless romantic in a hopeless situation, and yet... she loves anyway. Because it is the only thing that feels real.