Mathilde Rousseau's page

Mathilde discards her pickle along with the honeycomb detritus. "You mean Rootman Jerrod? He's real?! How's that song go? 'Something, something, down with the roots.' Then something else about blood on his boots? That Jerrod?"

When Remy nods and shrugs, Mathilde purses her lips and shrugs in kind. "Sure then, if he may know something. What about the temple as well? Should we see if there's anything there that could shed light on the situation?"

All, I'm so sorry for my absense! I just had to travel for the week for an on-site residency for this new school year. I assumed I would have more time (I'm out of town, no familial obligations), but was sorely mistaken.

I have not left, however, and am catching up now. My most sincere apologies once again!

Mathilde is a piss poor bounty hunter. Unlike Syrina, Mathilde has yet to actually capture a single bounty on her own.

Well, that's not entirely true. The young woman has actually managed to apprehend a small handful of marks, but is such a soft touch that she's always let them go out of pity. The one bounty she actually collected on was killed by wolves and Mathilde happened upon the corpse a day later. Using her hacksaw she removed the man's hand as proof (especially since most of the rest of the body was unusable).

She's a short woman, with a soft heart and a peculiar stride -- smooth but awkward, as if slightly inebriated. She smells of lilac, which she thought would be a wonderful calling card... can you imagine the fear it would strike in a mark when they begin to smell it, knowing she's nearby and about to pounce? But again, she's never become infamous enough for it to matter.

She's heard of Syrina before, but is rather envious or her success.