~ Hi, I'm JUNO! ~
🌿[juno]
Profile🤎 Race: Miqo'te
🤎 Age: mid 20s
🤎 Favorite food: Tender Shortcake
🤎 Favorite drink: Bubble Tea
🤎 Job: SCH
🤎 Relationship status: Single
Personality🌀 Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
🕯️ Core Values: Freedom, curiosity, loyalty
🪶 Strengths: Empathy, adaptability, deep intuition
🌧️ Flaws: Impulsive, emotionally guarded, rule-bending
backstory
UpbringingBorn beneath the whispering branches of Gridania, Juno Fey grew up listening to the voices of the forest—the gentle hum of the elementals, the rustling leaves that seemed to breathe with the wind. Her parents were botanists who cared for the Stillglade Fane’s gardens and taught her that every sprout had its own will. From them, she learned to revere all forms of life but also developed a restless curiosity that couldn’t be confined by the forest’s borders.As a child, Juno was both brilliant and reckless. She often snuck off to draw the creatures of the Twelveswood, coming back with mud on her boots. Her teachers scolded her, but her friends adored her. She was a peculiar blend of chaos and kindness—a girl who could accidentally spill ink on a priceless manuscript one moment and then stay up all night rewriting it by hand the next.When the Calamity struck, the gentle rhythm of her life shattered. Her parents died helping to heal the wounded at the Botanists’ Guild, leaving behind their research and their daughter’s unspoken grief. In their memory, Juno joined the Order of the Twin Adder, determined to protect the forest they loved—and to unravel the mysteries of life and aether.
🌸 Among her parents’ notes, she found a pressed forget-me-not—its petals faded but unbroken. Since then, the flower has followed her from journal to journal, a reminder that even the smallest life can endure loss and still bloom again.
The ScholarHer natural gift for healing and her obsession with aetheric balance led her to the ancient art of the Nymian Scholar. The first time she summoned her faerie companion, she cried—not out of triumph, but from the haunting sense that she had called forth something both wondrous and lonely, much like herself.Juno soon gained a reputation among the Adders for her unorthodox methods: she’d heal wounded soldiers with laughter as much as with spells, quote old tomes mid-battle, and sometimes get herself scolded for wandering off. Yet, despite her quirks, her heart remained true. She would charge into danger if it meant saving a friend, though she often retreated to quiet glades afterward to collect her thoughts—or to speak to her faerie about the ones she couldn’t save.
The Wound BeneathIn time, Juno met a fellow scholar within the Adders—a man of sharp wit and warm smile, who shared her fascination with the unseen currents of aether. Together they studied, healed, and dreamed of discoveries that might restore what the Calamity had taken. For the first time since her parents’ passing, Juno felt her heart stir with hope. She allowed herself to believe that love could mend what grief had broken.But love, like the forest, has its storms.
Without warning or reason, he left her—for another woman within the Order. His absence came not as a violent end, but a quiet betrayal, a wound too deep for healing magic. In the days that followed, Juno continued her duties with a smile that never quite reached her eyes. Her laughter remained, but it was softer now—measured, as though she feared too much joy might crack what remained of her heart.
🌸 It was in that same glade where they once met that she noticed the forget-me-nots blooming again, untouched by time. Since that day, the flower has come to symbolize both her grief and her resolve—to remember, but not to be bound by the past.
Now, she journeys across Eorzea as a Scholar of the Twin Adder, carrying both her parents’ journals and her own. Her path is one of restoration—not just of aether, but of the human spirit. To those who meet her, Juno seems carefree, a whimsical scholar who finds joy in small things. But those who know her best understand that beneath the laughter lies a soul shaped by loss, strengthened by love—and guarded by the memory of a heart once broken.She claims she no longer believes in romance, yet sometimes, when the wind rustles through the boughs of the Twelveswood, she pauses—wondering if even the most wounded hearts might one day learn to bloom again.
Juno's journals
Entry IThe forest hums today. I swear I can hear it when I close my eyes—the soft pulse beneath the roots, like a heartbeat shared by every living thing. Mother says the elementals are speaking, but I think it’s the world reminding me I belong to it. I want to learn every sound it makes.-juno
Entry IIThe Calamity took more than lives. It took the stillness. The air feels thinner now, stretched and trembling. They say my parents died bravely, helping others at the Guild. I try to believe that. I try to believe they didn’t suffer. I keep their journals close and read their notes aloud, as if they might answer. Sometimes, I almost hear them.-juno
Entry IIII summoned her today—my faerie. She appeared in a shimmer of light, delicate and quiet. For a heartbeat, I thought she might be Mother. Foolish, I know. But there was something familiar in the way she hovered near me, like she understood without words. Perhaps she does. Perhaps she remembers, too.-juno
Entry IVHe’s unlike anyone I’ve met in the Adders. Bold, curious, always smiling when he speaks about aether theory. He listens when I ramble about old tomes and faerie songs. No one’s ever listened like that before. I think… I think I could love him. But I won’t say it. Not yet.-juno
Entry VHe left as softly as the wind changes course—no anger, no farewell, only silence. I’ve learned that heartbreak isn’t loud. It’s the stillness after laughter fades, the pause between breaths when you realize you’re the only one listening. I do not hate him… but I cannot forgive the way he made me believe I was enough. So I’ll keep healing others, even if I never heal myself. It’s easier that way.-juno
Entry VIToday I treated a wounded lancer who refused to rest. He reminded me of myself—stubborn, proud, unwilling to admit the hurt. I told him healing takes time. He laughed and said I should take my own advice. Maybe he’s right. But some wounds aren’t meant to close. Some are meant to remind us that we survived.-juno
Entry VIISometimes I wonder if I’ve become too comfortable in my solitude. The forest is kinder company than people, and my faerie never asks for explanations. Yet, when the night is still and the fire burns low, I find myself reaching toward the empty space beside me. Old habits die hard.-juno
Entry VIIIThere are mornings when I feel almost whole. The sun filters through the branches, and for a moment, I forget the ache. Maybe that’s what healing really is—not the absence of pain, but the quiet acceptance of it. I think… I think my parents would be proud of me. And maybe, someday, I’ll be proud of myself too.-juno