Jolune Fal

Life is a book, my friend! If you'd bothered to read ahead, you'd know that this is the part where you die.

— Jolune Fal

Jolune Fal is an infamous duster— once a promising writer from Luna, now a criminal exiled from the Free Orbit Clans.

[Placeholder Portrait]

Author of Fate

Jolune grew up in the slums of Luna, unable to afford most forms of entertainment. Rather than watch holoproductions, listen to music, or play in virtual reality— they instead spent much of their childhood at their local library. Through this, they gained a deep appreciation for storytelling— and dreamed of nothing more than becoming a successful author. From a young age, Jolune wrote short stories— eventually writing their first novel at the age of fourteen. They would hone their craft over the years, and by the time they reached adulthood, they had two published novels under their belt. Jolune's work, while not quite famous, was well known within his district. They had even gained a sizable following by the time they were twenty-three— when something changed their life forever.
Visiting the library one day, as they were wont to do— they were suddenly gripped with fear. A plume of smoke snaked from the roof, coiling around the air— and choking it. They were paralyzed, standing still as their lifelong refuge burned before them.
A voice shook them to their senses. "Focus." It said. "Listen." It said. And so Jolune listened. A thousand voices rang out in their head— Saronere. "There are no flames, there's still time." The voice spoke true— there were to visible flames yet, the fire must have started recently. There was still time.
Still choked by fear, yet determined to save the edifice, Jolune quickly ran towards the door— it was padlocked. Fear clouded their mind once more— they had no chance.
Again, the voice spoke. "Focus. Place your hand on the lock, and breathe." Jolune, unsure of what to do— obeyed the voice. "Feel the dust within you, focus, and redirect them through your palm." Jolune felt the padlock grow hot in their hands— a sparkling orange shower dripping from beneath it. Another moment, and it fell free— allowing them to burst into the library, find the fire— and put it out.
This exhilarating experience not only activated Jolune's latent ability to control dust— but also brought them to realize something life-changing. A good story does not exist only on paper— life itself is a story, a medium all its own. A medium that Jolune saw great potential in.

Ghost Writer

Wishing to give others opportunities to be a part of a greater story, becoming the heroes they only wished they were, Jolune kept an eager eye out for ways to do so. At first, they did this simply by acting the part of someone in need. Perhaps they pretended to be an addict, begging for help, or simply needing someone to talk to. Those who took the opportunity to help them, would find that their advice and words of comfort had great effect on Jolune— leaving them feeling more confident in themselves. Hungering for more impactful stories, Jolune slowly began to adopt more involved methods. This began with them pretending to be on the opposite end of the political spectrum from those they met— no matter where they may stand— and pretending to be completely changed by their interactions.

Why, you're right! I've been living a lie all this time— how can I ever repay you, friend?

— Jolune Fal

Then they began pretending to be a criminal, acting as if they were about to steal something or hurt someone— and allowing others to "catch" them, feeling like minor heroes in the process. Yet they wanted something more— they wanted to change lives, thus creating better stories for those who crossed their path. Thus far, they had only given them an amusing story to tell, at most. In pursuit of this, they began committing real crimes— though nothing beyond robbery, at first. Crimes which left their targets unharmed— yet not without granting them a new source of intrigue in their lives. Of course, being an amateur criminal, Jolune would be caught time and time again— though this was something they still wanted, in the end. The reactions of their targets became less friendly, however, and Jolune was beaten on multiple occasions. A worthy sacrifice, they thought, as their targets would walk away with a stronger story. In response to their crimes, the community grew tighter— supporting the victims by offering replacements and aid for what they lost.
Yet Jolune needed more. Remembering the event that changed their life, a new plan was formed— if they wished to grant similar opportunities to others, they had to go further. Wishing to replicate their own life-changing story, they began to commit arson— ensuring that the fires were lit in such a way that made them unlikely to spread, and easy to put out. This worked the first few times— though their fifth attempt turned out unexpectedly. Rather than being spotted in time, the fire was allowed to spread— burning down the shack it had been started in, and moving towards the residence beside it. Quickly, Jolune started towards the home— hoping to save whoever was inside, if anyone.
They stopped, however, seeing someone else rush inside the burning structure. Then another. Passerby, seeing the smoke, had rushed to help— and emerged moments later with the home's residents, who had been asleep when the fire encroached upon them. One came out unscathed, while the other was severely burned in the inferno— and would spend the next several months recovering from their injuries. Having lost their home, the couple would need to rely on the community to survive, and were eventually able to procure for themselves a better home than what they'd lost. A powerful, uplifting story!

Sometimes I forget that kindness exists in the hearts of this accursed rock— and then tragedy strikes, we band together to aid the victims, and my heart swells with gratitude for being born here, of all places.

— A grateful woman

Jolune had to repeat this. After following the story quietly for a few months, they began lighting other residences on fire. They tried to ensure residents would have ample time to escape, though steadily lost their caution, feeling that the more dangerous someone's escape was— the better their story would be. This loss of caution applied to their methods of fire setting, as well. By this time they had constructed a focus for themselves, and could set fires from a reasonable distance with their abilities. Rumors and myths slowly began to spread about the brilliant curtain of fire that seemed to precede the infernos— some even claimed it was an alien creature, native to Luna, trying to reclaim its territory.

It was inevitable that Jolune would eventually be caught. The unfortunate soul who stumbled on them one night was no doubt terrified— whatever was setting homes on fire was not, in fact, a mysterious creature— but a human. Not just a human, but a duster, no less— who surely would hurt others if left unchecked. In one quick motion, the stranger pulled their gun on Jolune— who, seeing the mortal peril they were now placed in, quickly created a second curtain of dust, and sent it towards their attacker.
The bullet melted on contact with the curtain— shortly followed by the man behind it. What shocked Jolune most here was not the fact that they had just killed a man— but how impactful the event could be. How much intrigue would the death of this stranger add to the stories of those who knew him? Would they seek revenge? Grieve? Change themselves for the better, promising to do so in his name?
The answer to this question came only a few days later— a neighbor had witnessed the murder, and gathered a posse to kill Jolune before they could hurt anyone else. Of course, being a duster—they were no match for Jolune. Suffering only minor wounds, Jolune burnt the posse to ash— leaving one alive to tell the story. After all, it was all for nothing if there was no story. Of course, if their crimes were to be known— they would no longer be safe in the slums. There was no other choice but to escape Luna, and Jolune acted quickly to do so, stealing a ship and leaving a few fires in their wake. But where would they go now? They'd spent their entire life on Luna.

Burning the Eye

Jolune had grown up on stories of dusters, and their heroics. Surely, they thought, they could make their stories ever more enthralling. And so, they set out into the stars, ready to write their greatest stories yet. Jolune would later encounter the Eyes of Horus, and become a recurring adversary— gaining a particular affinity for attacking Yysiad, seeing great potential in their story.
While they may often rely on stoking the flames of drama and tragedy in order to "enhance" stories— Jolune does on occasion aid others, acting as something of a wild card in any given situation. They may be convinced to aid just about anyone, provided they can be convinced that doing so would create an engaging story.

Appearance

Jolune's lithe frame and rounded features grant them an androgynous appearance— one that makes it all the easier for them to disguise themselves and blend in as needed.
They keep their dark hair long, often separating it into two distinct sections with weighted silver balls evenly placed at the bottom, and draped over their shoulders.
This ensures that their hair does not get singed.

When there is no need for secrecy, Jolune dons an insulated form-fitting black suit that covers all but their head, hands, and feet. Over this, they often wear an orange sports jacket with black patches over its elbows.
Pointed orange boots cover their feet, while their focus is worn over their hands— acting as gloves. Black makeup, mimicking scorch marks, is often smeared around their eyes and lips— completing the look.

Abilities & Focus

Jolune's particular ability allows them to create up to two "curtains" of dust, which burn at a temperature able to melt through most metals. Their dust glows a brilliant orange, appearing like sparkling fire or molten metal from a distance. They can control the width of the curtains, from as thin as a hair, to as wide as 100 ft.
Its height is limited by the distance they can control it from, that being up to 200 ft. away. The curtains can be freely controlled and rotated, up to a speed of 30mph. Their focus is a pair of orange and black gloves, woven tightly with a set of heat-transferring pipes that converge on holes at the center of their palms.
These holes glow a faint orange, even when dust is not being focused through them.