hey, did you see the video of tresspass catching a falling civilian with her hair? apparently their real name is daphne gao and they’re with valerian universal, inc. people in the comments are calling them the strands, and saying their permutation is probably hair manipulation — that would mean they scored a b on the f.b.a.i. assessment rank, right? i mean, i guess it sort of looks like them, if you squint. i'm not sure though, the person on the video doesn’t look like a 29 year old.
— [ unraveled by mell. 25. she/her. est. n/a. ]
001. general.
name: xiaotong “daphne” gao.
hero alias: tresspass.
faceclaim: havana rose liu.
date of birth & age: september 30, twenty9.
gender & pronouns: cis woman, she/her.
orientation/marital status: bisexual / biromantic / single.
distinguishing features: long, dark brown hair [ typically worn down in soft waves, ] warm, expressive green eyes [ often appearing very open and emotionally readable. ]
occupation: b-rank hero with valerian universal, inc.
power: hair manipulation.
height: 165 cm / 5 ft 4.5 in.
place of birth: malden, massachusetts.
family: mother [ alive, ] father [ alive, ] two older brothers.
current residence: long island city, new everwick.
002. iconography.
character inspirations: mitsuri kanroji [ demon slayer, ] yukako yamagishi [ jojo's bizarre adventure, ] ann takamaki [ persona 5, ] aerith gainsborough [ final fantasy 7, ] hachi [ nana, ] isabel [ bottoms. ]
character tropes: all-loving hero, beware the nice ones, cool big sis, comical overreacting, prehensile hair.
zodiac sign: libra.
mbti: enfp-t.
positive traits: affectionate, playful, charming, empathetic, optimistic, socially adaptable, supportive, expressive.
negative traits: people-pleasing, impulsive, overly sensitive, escapist tendencies, mood-dependent behavior.
likes: anything cute, sweet things, music, dancing, the ocean, puzzles.
dislikes: feeling sweaty, deceit, big crowds, rodents, dirty environments.
fears: being forgotten / anything happening to her family / being disliked / ending up alone.
habits: constantly apologizes, usually has her hands clasped in front of her, talks to herself, uses people's names when talking to them.
hobbies: watching movies, crossword puzzles, sudoku, collecting trinkets, baking, shopping.
pets: a male ragdoll cat named mr. darcy.
003. extras.
biography:
born to an irish mother and a chinese father, daphne grew up in a home that, on the surface, seemed normal. she maintains a good relationship with both of her parents, and her childhood was, in many ways, comfortable.
much of her deeper turmoil stems from her relationship with her brothers, who, shaped by traditional patriarchal expectations, consistently looked down on her and left her questioning her own worth. while her parents cared deeply for her, they often avoided conflict, choosing to smooth things over rather than confront it. in doing so, they missed the depth of what she was experiencing, leaving her to navigate those feelings alone.
over time, that sense of being underestimated and unheard settled into something heavier: a desire to be seen, to be valued, to matter. now, daphne is determined to prove herself not just to others, but to the part of herself that still doubts. becoming a hero isn't just a goal—it's her way of reclaiming her voice, her worth, and her place in the world.
wanted connections:
open to all kinds of connections: platonic, romantic, and even negative dynamics. in a special search for found family dynamics and close, meaningful friendships, but i'm just as interested in more situational ties too, like neighbors, classmates, coworkers, or anything that naturally brings characters into each other's orbit! whether it's something soft and supportive or messy and complicated, i'm excited to explore a range of dynamics.
as of late, every moment daphne gets to spend outside the costume feels borrowed. outside of trespass, outside of the city's scrutiny and the violence stitched into it—those moments are rare enough to taste precious. (not that she can ever fully stop being herself.)
even stripped of the suit and the name, her presence is carried like weather: the long spill of her hair tumbles down her back in dark, soft waves, alive with subtle motion even when the rest of her is still, as though the air itself can't help but touch her. she moves lightly through the world, all breeze and warmth and easy laughter, filling spaces without overtaking them. smiles offered freely. kindness, too. in another city, maybe she'd linger on strangers longer, let herself indulge in curiosity openly. but this is new everwick—a place where eye contact can become something else entirely.
so, daphne keeps her glances brief and her movements practiced, slipping into the rhythm of normalcy instead. and normalcy, today, means coffee.
the café is loud in the familiar way: milk steaming, chairs scraping tile, conversation layered thick enough to become texture. someone calls an order number too softly to survive the noise, but daphne recognizes the drink anyway. (of course she does.) she steps up to the counter at the same moment someone else does, both of them reaching with equal certainty for the same order.
“oh—” the sound escapes her, soft and abashed. “did you get an iced matcha too?”
setting: valerian towers 42nd floor rec room, nkc, nk.
timeframe: april 30, 2022. late afternoon.
summary: while hanging out talking about the newest happenings at valerian, someone receives unexpected news.
content warnings: none.
The forty-second floor of Valerian Towers is usually reserved for the company’s B-rank stewards, the entire level set aside as a shared leisure space. It functions as a centralized hub rather than a single room, with a café and bakery along one alcove, a staffed island bar near the core, and several open seating areas arranged for conversation or quiet downtime next to a ceiling-to-floor reinforced window showcasing the picturesque Manhattan skyline.
Away from the eatery, a widescreen TV dominates one end of the floor, flanked by shelves of games and media, while smaller alcoves provide space to sit without being fully cut off from the rest of the room. Compared to the C-rank rec room — confined to a single room outfitted with little more than basic seating and a vending machine and complimentary snack table — the B-rank space feels intentionally built to acknowledge their inhabitants. To congratulate them.
Then there are the A-ranks, who are granted two full recreational floors of their own. Keegan’s only been in them a handful of times thanks to Aj—Phoenix. Wow, he really lucked out in the friends department, didn’t he? He can’t help but think this way at the very moment where a hostess standing at a lectern cross-references his name and Valerian ID to ensure he’s actually someone’s plus one, and yes, he is, can you check under Tresspass?
He sits somewhere enclosed, a few tables away from the café for privacy (and in case he lets out an outburst of emotion, from which there are frequent), and looks out for his friend, Daphne. She’s younger than him, and they’ve hit it off since a joint mission a few months back after he helped her out with her hair, literally. Since that time, it seems Tresspass has made quite an impression with Valerian, and their schedules have been so busy that this catch-up session feels long overdue.
Yeah, it’ll be good to see her. Daphne’s always given Keegan the impression of a beloved cousin, and she often tries to dissuade worries but that’s not going to fly with Keegan! Even if she’s got a smile on, and a “I’m fine" ready, Keegan will always ask if she’s okay and not to overdo it. It’s not every day that you’ve got thousands upon thousands of people checking out your every move.
Keegan scrolls through AlterEgo while waiting, still thinking in awe about the number of views he got on his stream not that long ago. Talk about star power… He spots her then, Tresspass’ signature locks on point, shimmering under the rec room’s soft glow lights. But of course, brighter is Daphne’s grin, that little beam so strong that it lights up her whole visage and person.
“ Tresspass! Over here! ” Keegan calls with a wave, just to be careful not to expose Daphne’s civilian identity. Not everyone at Valerian know who’s who out of cape (ooc, for short). Keegan’s shed of his own costume for today, mainly to have a real face-to-face conversation with Daphne, but also since that half-helmet is the equivalent of carrying a ton of bricks around his head.
He gets up from his seat, offering a hug should she want one, and asks, “ How’s it going? Oh, if you want to grab a coffee or something like that, let’s go together! I’ve been eyeing one of those mango croissants they have on display. Talk about yum. ”
there's no hesitation: daphne folds herself into the hug the instant keegan opens his arms, warmth meeting warmth in a collision soft enough to bruise somewhere tender. the squeeze she gives him is brief but wholehearted, fondness pressed into it with almost painful sincerity.
if not for the impossible halo of her hair, it would be her smile that ruined people for lesser things—that radiant, devastating thing, bright enough to make people believe in something gentle again. (convenient for marketing purposes, really.) or maybe it's that voice of hers instead: low and honeyed, sunlight poured over velvet.
“oh my gosh, yes! let's do it!”
their arms hook together with familiarity as she steers them toward the café and bakery, close enough that they move like matched momentum, but it's hardly an unusual sight for trespass. tresspass, much like daphne, hugs like she's trying to make up for something. like, if given the chance, she would wrap her arms around the whole aching world and refuse to let go.
it must be exhausting, being that alive all the time. (how lonely, too, to be so full of light.)
and she is tired—god, she is tired—but there is no use stopping now, not with the good news fizzing inside her like uncorked champagne. it shows in the pep of her step, that barely-contained buoyancy of her. still, she reins herself in. (barely.) enough to survive polite conversation before detonating into excitement.
“how are you?” that incandescent attention is fully turned onto keegan now. “you look great—seriously, tell me everything.”