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Post by jezebel on May 15, 2011 11:09:24 GMT -5
   __________________________________________________________{ A B O U T . Y O U }
Name: Najooj
Gender: girllll
Age: 18 but I'm almost 19 homg which means I'm almost 20 which means I won't be a teenager OHMYGODI'MSOOLD
E-mail: you has
Twitter: you has
Years of RPG Experience: bunchels and bunchels
Other: unicorn
No not really I know the rules tho I ain't giving the pass away u_____u
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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }
How did you find us? srsly I have magical unicorn powers
What about ISS inspired you to join? everyone else has magical unicorn powers as well so I knew I'd fit right in
Do you have any suggestions for us? let me use my magical unicorn powers freeeelyyyyyyyyy. I'll use them for good, I swear.
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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }
Name: Perdita Jezebel Sauveterre, but she goes by Jezebel, thank you very much. Not Jez, and certainly not Perdita or Dita or any form of her terrible P-name – just Jezebel. Unless you're close enough to her, then maybe you're allowed to call her Jez. Maybe.
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Year: Fifth
Face Claim: Amber Heard
Canon or Original? Orrrrrrrriginal all zee way
Facial Properties: Jezebel knows she's beautiful; she knows she has the typical golden-locks-and-bright-blue-eyes that many people adore in women. She's not your typical beauty, though. While she knows she has an overall attractive outlook, she knows her imperfections – sometimes, she thinks her smile is too big. Her face is too round and full. One eyelid tends to droop slightly more over her eye than the other when she's smiling. Her hair sometimes has split ends if she doesn't take care of it properly. Her skin isn't always free of blemishes. And, of course, the most obvious imperfection: the burn mark along her jaw, the result of an unfortunate accident with a candlestick when she was younger. She thinks it makes her unique, however, and Merlin knows Jezebel would do anything to be unique – of course, her mother doesn't allow her to show case it, teaching her from a young age the glamours needed to hide it, so no one really knows that they exist. Otherwise, her hair is blonde and usually kept long (although she never lets it get longer than half-way down her back, for fear of ending up like Rapunzel and no prince is climbing up her hair, thank you very much. As a matter of fact, if she had been Rapunzel, she would have climbed down her own hair and saved herself! See, this is why she isn't the princess. The witch was smart enough to bargain for the girl – Rapunzel was just plain stupid. Shouldn't it be obvious who one would want to be?). Anyway, her eyes are fairly wide -almost doe-eyed, except blue, of course. Her skin is pale, pale enough that she has to be careful when she's out in the sun because she'll get terrible burns. Her mouth is generous, her lips pink and her teeth a snowy white – oral hygiene is very important to her.
Physique: Jezebel has a very full figure for her age. She's not quite sure why, except for the fact that her cousin seems to think that the Sauveterre girls have a tendency to "mature early", but she doesn't exactly like it very much. She finds her breasts (or, as she likes to call them, "hills") to be more inconvenient than anything. Honestly, they just sit there and even have a tendency to bounce at the most inappropriate times – for example, when she's running (her mother failed to inform her of the existence of a bra, instead she wears a slip and thinks the contraption that she's seen lying around in several of her dorm mates' trunks as something they use to hold something valuable). Really, they're more of a hassle than anything, especially since she has noticed they tend to draw attention from the opposite sex at times and it's really very awkward because she has no idea what they find so fascinating about breasts (although, she has noticed that boys do not possess them – at least, not most of them, although she has noticed that the chubbier boys do, wasn't that strange?). Honestly, she believes they simply add to the fact that her figure isn't as slim as it should be – something her mother never ceases to remind her. Not that Jezebel cares, it's really more of an annoyance, whenever her mother purses her lips and prods her arms, which are a bit too full, or eyes her thighs whenever Jezebel has to change in front of her. She's proud of her legs, though. She knows they're longer than most, and that they happen to be very nice legs indeed. She's pretty tall considering her condition (the potions to fight the osteogenesis imperfecta's symptoms helped with that), barely brushing 5'7. Overall, her body is a bit too…womanly for her tastes, but it's not like she can do anything about it, right?
Wand Type: Nine inches, Mahogany, Hippogriff tail.
Wand Expertise: Charms
Patronus: Platypus
Boggart: A mirror and, when she looks into it, her reflection is her as a princess.
Personality:
To put it kindly, Jezebel is an…acquired taste. Everyone has their eccentrics, but Jezebel's take the cake, eat it and then bake a whole other one. See, she believes she lives in a fairytale. Growing up, the only reading material her mother allowed was fairy tales, and Jezebel has read and re-read every single one too many times to count, and soon found herself immersed in the world. Somehow, she that led to the fairytales being projected into her own world so that the lines between reality and fairy tale aren't just blurred – they no longer exist. But it 's not that she thinks she's a princess and that, some day, a prince is going to come and save her and they'll run off into the sunset together – no, it's nothing as innocent as that. She always views herself as the antagonist – the ugly step sister, Maleficent, Ursula, the Queen of Hearts, the wicked witch of the West, the step mother – she's never the princess. As a matter of fact, she looks down on the princesses. Everything they want, they get, handed to them on a silver platter. They're weak, defenseless, gullible, stupid. They're too pretty, too perfect. She's not interested in their story, in their cliché happy ending – it's the between-the-lines, the back story of the characters that are stereotyped and brushed off without a second glance, the ones that are viewed as "evil", who made the lives of the protagonist difficult. The princess is boring; the antagonist isn't. They deserved a break, they weren't evil just because they were born that way. Very few people are born evil, she believes. And it's not so much that she thinks of herself and the other antagonists as the underdogs, but rather they're just…different. Underappreciated and, yet, they're stronger, more powerful, more unique. They're, simply put…better.
There's also the fact that Jezebel narrates everything that happens to her or around her (that's "relevant" to her, anyway). It's as if she's writing her own story, in her own head – she literally thinks everything she does, and everything she sees, and everything people she notices around her do. It's why she sometimes ends up taking a little too long to respond to someone when she's conversing with them; she's too busy finishing off her inner monologue first. She really doesn't believe it's strange at all, though – she thinks that's how everyone's mind works. Of course, she doesn't think that everyone believes in the same things she does (although why they wouldn't is really beyond her), but she doesn't find anything strange about her inner monologues. In a lot of ways, it makes her self-centered. Jezebel doesn't really care much (or at all) about those she views as "background characters" to her story – the first year she accidentally bumps into, the seventh year who leers at her on a windy day, even some of her fellow class mates. She honestly just doesn't care about them, because they just don't matter to her story. They're just the people who fill up the background, make her story more realistic. To a much lesser extent, she's like that with those who do matter. There's the primary characters – her closest friends and her family - whom she actually cares about (although, quiet often, she still comes first, if only because she believes that she's the main character, and so her story is very "memememe"), and then there's the secondary characters who might not be directly related to her story, but that still have some sort of influence on her. She also characterizes everyone – her own way of labeling people. The females that she likes are usually the antagonists, while those she's not all too fond of are condescendingly placed as princesses. Meanwhile, the males that she respects or admires are given a princely position, and so on and so forth. All in all? Her mind is a very strange place.
It's not good to lie, and Jezebel knows that – but she does it anyway, even though she doesn’t know it. Or, rather, it's not so much lie as manipulate the truth to fit into her story. She could twist an event around so much that it becomes a lie, except it's one she genuinely believes. If something doesn't match up with her story, she'll either discard it completely, as if it never happened, or she'll manipulate it so that it fits what she thinks should have happened. She'll exaggerate something that's meant to be boring or unimportant, to the point where there's hardly any truth left, just to seem unique, just so that it goes with her story. It's a form of deception, but she's not just deceiving people – she's deceiving herself, as well, and she doesn't even know she's doing it. If people call her out on it, she gets really defensive, or becomes genuinely confused because she doesn't know she's doing it. Ironically, though, she's bluntly honest when it comes to voicing her opinions. If she thinks you're a little chubby and need to lose some weight, she'll tell you as such, as she won't sugarcoat it either – but only if you're a friend because, otherwise, she really doesn't care. You can always count on her to tell you her honest opinion, even if it does come out rather harsh. If she thinks what you're wearing is awful, she'll tell you how ugly she thinks it is, and actually expects you to be grateful because, hey, she's going out of her way to give you something you can improve upon!
Jezebel is extremely confident – almost toeing the line of arrogant at times. She knows who she is, and she's not ashamed of it. When she speaks, it's with a surety that would surprise anyone, even when half of what comes out of her mouth is completely ridiculous – as a matter of fact, it's then that she's most confident. She believes in herself, in everything she says and does, and believes it's right. It also makes her stubborn as hell – if you try to question or challenge her beliefs, she'll retaliate with everything she's got (verbally, of course, because she'd never actually confront anyone physically, she might not be a princess but she's a lady, thank you very much). She sticks to her own ideas so closely it's almost ridiculous, because she'll hardly listen to anyone unless there's solid proof and even then she could twist it around to suite her needs, as aforementioned. She refuses to believe that she's wrong, instead preferring to believe that everyone else is wrong and she's the one who's right, and no amount of evidence or argument can change her view. It's why she's lived so long believing that kissing really does lead to babies (and then when that didn't work she even came up with her own theory that you have to mean it to get pregnant), and that babies come in storks, despite the many people who have tried to persuade her otherwise.
Which sort of brings me to the next point: Jezebel's ignorance. As much as she would love to believe that she knows everything, that she's right and everyone else is wrong – there is a lot that has been kept from her, purposefully by her mother, and encouraged by her father. The where-babies-come-from is just one of a long list of things that Jezebel should know, but doesn't. Her mother hadn't even bothered to tell her about girls and menstrual cycles – when she first got hers at the tender age of twelve, Jezebel had been convinced she was bleeding to death and Madam Pomfrey had to explain to her that, no, she wasn't going to die and she didn't need to write a will, but that this was completely normal (or as normal as a girl bleeding out from her Sacred Place could be, which wasn't very normal at all, in Jezebel's humble opinion). But basically, if it's not in a fairytale or a school textbook, chances are, Jezebel doesn't know it.
Being oppressed as she is, it's only natural that Jezebel turns out to be a curious soul – and she is. She likes going off on her own little "adventures", although she's not exactly reckless. She's aware of her condition, of how fragile her bones are, and thus doesn't exactly put herself in which she views as situations that could potentially cause her harm. No, her adventures are on a smaller (or, at least, safer) scale than that. For example, she had been curious as to how giant this Giant Squid was claimed to be, and thus she had waded into the water, drawn out her wand and, with all the simplicity of a juvenile child, she attempted to summon it. Surprisingly, it had actually worked and, when it had gotten close enough that she could get a good look at it, she hurried out of the water and contended herself with the knowledge that, yes, the Giant Squid was just as big as the rumors claimed to be. Really, it was well worth the telling off Imogen gave her later. She also doesn't believe in being protected. While she's perfectly willing to be spoiled rotten by her father (and, honestly, her being the only daughter and being 'fragile' has led to her father spoiling her silly, showering her with everything her little heart desired), she doesn't approve of her older brothers' constant shadowing through the first fourteen years of her life. Now that the youngest has finally graduated, however, she feels free to do whatever it is she wants – which could very well mean that this adventurous streak of hers could soon turn reckless. But she honestly doesn't care, because she can damn well take care of herself. She's not some helpless little princess locked up in a tower. She can climb her own hair down the tower, thank you very much, and she can fight her own dragons. She doesn't need a Prince to come and save her, because she's perfectly capable of saving herself.
She is!
Likes:
+ Fairytales
+ Adventures
+ Antagonists
+ Getting what she wants
+ Belle from Beauty and the Beast
+ Her family
+ Drawing
+ Chocolate
+ Butterflies
+ Classical instruments – violin, harp, piano, etc
Dislikes:
– When her mother tries to "guide" her
– Being mocked
– Princesses
– Kissing
– Dancing
– Studying
– Feet
– Odd numbers
– Loud noise
– Spiders
History:
Family:
Father: Nathaniel Sauveterre
Mother: Prudence Pryce-Sauveterre
Brothers: Prosper Suveterre, 31
Preston Sauveterre, 25
Peter Sauveterre, 21
Payton Sauveterre, 18
The Pryce's weren't exactly the most well-know purebloods in society. As a matter of fact, next to the Blacks and Malfoys, they were practically nothing. Still, with each generation, and each marriage, they go higher and higher up in society. And they were doing fine until, of course, Pietro turned out to be the black sheep of the Pryce family, ending up in Hufflepuff, much to his mother's dismay and then, to her utter horror he married a Muggle. He had married a Muggle! It was all she could do not to disown him that instant, but he was her only son – she simply couldn't bear to do it. Instead, she turned to her daughter, Prudence – her last hope to marry well. Prudence didn't like that pressure, however. She knew her mother loved her, knew that she was trying to do the best for her when she berated her for slumping when she should be sitting up straight (stick out your chest there a bit, dear, no shame in showing off what Merlin gave you). And she tried to be a good daughter, honestly she did, but she simply had this…natural attraction to men and she didn't know how it happened, but at Hogwarts she found herself tumbling into the beds of one after another. She didn't really see anything wrong with it. Sex felt good, it was fun, and there were just so many good looking men in Hogwarts. It's not like her mother had to know about it. It wasn't there would be any consequences.
And then she got pregnant.
---
"How could you whore yourself out like that? Do you know what this could do to our reputation? To the Pryce name? You are just as much of a shame to me as your no-good brother is! Who is it?"
"Nathaniel Sauveterre. He's a pureblood."
"Thank Merlin for that. You'll get married by the end of the month. We'll call it an early birth."
"Married? But-"
"Do you have a problem with that, Prudence?"
"Whatever you say, mother."
---
The marriage was rushed, a small affair that not very many people knew about aside from their closest relatives. Nathaniel had been so spell-bound by her, he hardly thought to question it – she didn't tell him she was pregnant until afterwards, thus he had no idea that her proposition of let's get married, right now after a night of making love had actually been her mother's suggestion (order). They had their first son, Prosper Sauveterre, on a cold winter night – and Prudence simply couldn't bring herself to hate the child that should have ruined her life, and her relationship with her mother. Six years later, they had another son, Preston. And then, another four years later, Peter, followed three years later by their final son - Payton. By the time Payton was born, Prudence had begun to despair at the idea of having a daughter, although she had wanted one so badly. When she found herself pregnant again, she prayed every night for a daughter, a beautiful baby girl, someone whom she could shelter, whom she could teach better than her mother taught her, who could fix her mistakes for her – someone who wouldn’t be a whore.
Her prayers were answered when, on April the 18th, 1962, Perdita Jezebel Sauveterre was born.
---
"Hi, my name is Priscilla Pryce."
"I'm Pandora."
"Piper Pryce, nice to meet you!"
"Peter Sauveterre, put that vase down right this instant!"
"My name's Peter, and these are my brothers, Paul and Pacey. That's my sister, Patience. She's a little shy, though. How are you, Perdita?"
Merlin, is it just me or do all the Pryce's have P names? I found that really, really strange.
---
"My name is Jezebel!"
"No, your name is Perdita."
"I refuse to be called Perdita! Everyone else has a P name! I don't want to have a P name! My name is Jezebel!" I stormed off angrily. There was no way I would continue being called Perdita. I no longer felt unique. And I had to be unique! I had to be!"
---
"PERDITA! Payton, what happened? Prosper, you were supposed to be watching them! What's wrong with her? Perdita!"
"It hurts, mummy. I think I broke it. It hurts so much."
I'm going to die. It hurts so much. I can't believe I jumped down from the tree. But no one else was hurt. Payton was just fine. Why me?
---
"Osteogenesis imperfecta. It's type I, so it's mild. But she has to be very careful, and take the potion regularly."
"Is she…is she going to die?"
"No, that's not likely at all. As long as she's very careful."
The potion tasted terrible. I do not want to take it again. Only princesses would take potions, not me. I'm strong! I don't need a stupid potion! This is ridiculous.
---
"Don't be sad, Imogen. Genevieve is a horrible princess who thinks she can do whatever she wants, but she's actually jealous of you. She's like…Cinderella, and you're the ugly step sister. Not that you're ugly, you're not. You're very pretty." I nodded, convinced with my reasoning. Imogen looked away quickly, and I sighed, knowing what was coming. I was very bright for an eight year old, you see.
"I'm not sad."
I stared at her, unconvinced. She obviously wasn't, and that she was lying, but that was okay because sometimes I lied too. So I only put my arm around her, because that is what Prosper does to me when I am sad, and I didn't know what else to do.
---
"But mother, I don't want to dance with Lucius. Plus, my shoes are hurting my feet. Do I absolutely have to?"
"Yes, you do."
"But Priscilla already danced with him-"
"Exactly. Now you must as well."
"But mother."
"Silence! Go dance with him this instant, Perdita."
I huffed angrily, muttered "it's Jezebel," under my breath and then stomped off to dance with Lucius. At least he was a Prince and not an ugly troll, unlike that Dyon Rosier.
---
"Perdita Jezebel Sauveterre, why on Earth did you punch Paris?! Ladies do not go around punching boys! You are twelve years old, practically a young lady, no longer a child, so don't act like one!"
"But mother, he was trying to look up my dress!"
"Oh, that is utter nonsense. Paris would never do that."
I glared heatedly at the older boy, who smirked, obviously very pleased with himself, even though he was holding his nose which, to my pleasure, was bleeding a little. Still, he was smirking. Why, I ought to punch him again! Payton showed me exactly how to do it without breaking my thumb, like I did the last time. Mother was still ranting and raving, however, and I figured I should probably pay attention to her and then – ugh – apologise to Paris if I wanted to get away any time soon.
---
"Good lord, Perdita, you really have let yourself go at Hogwarts!"
I stared at my mother, uncomprehending. Let myself go? And then she began pinching at my sides, pursing her lips, and she asked me to strip. Suddenly self conscious, I pulled off my clothes without question and stood in front of her in my slip, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself. I knew I'd gained a little weight – these hills decided to grow on my chest, and I would have found it strange except Imogen was in a similar boat, although other fourth years hadn't seemed to have that problem. I suddenly felt small and insignificant under my mother's critical gaze and, quite honestly, a little ill, too.
"Your thighs seem to have fattened up. Is that a bit of a belly you're growing there? That simply won't do, Perdita." She must have noticed that I was beginning to get upset, because her tone softened. "You know I'm only trying to look out for you, darling. You're my darling. I want you to be perfect." But princesses are perfect – I don't want to be perfect. I suddenly felt sicker and wondered if this was a side effect of my illness. I barely listened to her after that, nodding every now and then, concentrating on not throwing up on her expensive shoes. As soon as she left, I ran into my bathroom and leaned over the toilet ball – but nothing. But the nausea just wouldn't go away so I did the only thing I could think of doing – I stuck my finger down my throat and made myself throw up. It was disgusting, but the nausea went away.
She did it every time her mother berated her on the way she looked. She didn't know why, but it made her feel better somehow, and she could only attribute it to her illness – because what else could be making her so sick?
---
"Now, Perdita-"
"Jezebel. Honestly, mother, it has been nine years since I told you I would like to change my name to Jezebel, why won't you—"
"-I want you to promise, Perdita, that you will be careful. Now that Payton's graduated, there won't be anyone to take care of you, and you know how fragile you are."
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, I'll be fine, mother. You don't have to worry about me." Secretly, I grinned. Now that all my brothers had finally graduated, and I didn't have any of them breathing down my neck, I would finally be free to do whatever I wanted.
My fifth year ought to be fun.
Sample Post: {four or more paragraphs}
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{ C O N T R A C T }
I solemnly swear that I, NAJOOJ, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.
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