Title: LOCKE, Jakob
Jakob Locke - September 13, 2007 01:10 AM (GMT)
__++hello. my name is…
alias:: Cy
age:: 20
experience:: 6 years
other characters here:: none
__++you can call me…
&&__basic information
full name:: Jakob Locke
nickname(s):: Jake, Jay. On account of preference, he just sticks by Jakob.
birthdate:: 27.7.1657 {[July 27, 1657]}
age:: 358; changed at 28
ethnicity:: German
orientation:: Bisexual {[ What? After three and a half centuries, a man is entitled to some experimentation to spice things up! ]}
species:: vampire
belongs to:: Meutrier Coven
title:: spy
&&__physical description
height:: 5'10"
weight:: 164 lbs.
eye color:: Pale Blue
hair color:: Dark Brown
body type:: lean; well-built
distinguishing marks:: none
dress style:: When it comes to wardrobe and general appearance, Jakob is as polar opposite from his wife as could be. Though still maintaining an overall sophisticated air, he is nonchalant of how he comes off to others whereas his beloved Cassandra is precise. Some would say that he shows such disregard for dressing up merely because of his wife's strict criteria for it, which would partly be true. On the other hand, Jakob feels that, despite having the span of eternity to fill, he just can't be bothered to waste his time on trivial matters of what matches with what and the amount of gel shoved into his hair. However, in spite of his lack of effort, Jakob almost always seems clean-cut and handsome in anything he might choose to wear. Tailored suits for professional matters, jeans and T-shirts for casual wear, and leather jackets and trench coats just because; it doesn't much matter, because he'll find a way to pull it all off. Figuratively, and possibly even literally if the night leads that way.
portrayal:: Jonathan Rhys Meyers
picture::
&&__personality test
likes::
• the rain
• star gazing
• alcohol {[ red wine, tequila, etc. ]}
• photography
• blood; the smell, the taste, the feel - a pure aphrodisiac, in his opinion
• sex
• women
• men
• art {[ photography, theatre, poetry, painting, music ]}
• violence
• pain; causing it and feeling it
• passive power; submission and domination
• psychological games
• hunting, alone and with his wife
• making his wife mad ... --such fun
dislikes::
• incompetence & ignorance
• losing
• monotony
• weaknesses
• overt displays of emotion, with the exception of his wife
• being ignored
• arrogance
• feeling less {[inadequate, wrong, weak, worthless, etc.]}
• individuals who pay less than a little attention to their personal hygiene
• anyone insulting his wife, or himself
• seeing his wife hurt, and not of the pleasurable kind
bad habits/quirks::
• star gazing
• people watching
• losing interest in most conversations midway through
• playing people; leading them on with the pre-destined purpose of dropping them
• very cliché, but his wife has swiftly become a bad habit that he can't quit ..
favorite bloodtype:: human; AB
general description:: A predator in every sense of the word, Jakob enjoys nothing more than the pain and discomfort of another being, whether he is the cause of it or not. There are extremely few actions and words that escape him that did not come attached to a large amount of thought. A strategist to the core, wise beyond even his eternal years, Jakob is a sociopath with a taste for overt displays of sadism. Screams are the lullaby that every child should hear, and driving someone to the brink of insanity is a magnificent game. The reward: pushing them off that edge, figuratively and literally.
A man of few words and smaller gestures, Jakob seems to be rather withdrawn and reserved. His silent nature, however, has nothing to do with social anxieties or a general timidity. On the contrary; he is merely sizing up his opponents and his surroundings before he acts. He thinks over every word before he says it, weighing reaction and consequence, and this faux modesty is only a method of uncovering the best method of attack. When riled up or merely in the mood to gather enemies, Jakob holds no qualms in striking for the soft underside of his foe and he is certainly not one to find himself above getting dirty when in a fight, whether it be physical or mental.
Blessed with a silver tongue, he is a man who could persuade a monk into murder and the Mother Teresa into the most perverse of actions. His ability to lie and to seduce are phenomenal, honed and sharpened after centuries of practice, and he seems to show no preference in whom becomes a part of his games. Truth is a story that he rarely weaves and, though he doesn't go out of his way to spin tales over every little thing, it's rare that any dip into his past isn't missing a large chunk. In opposition, he is cursed with a loose sense of monogamy and, though the emotional loyalty to his wife is unquestionable, his capability of strictly staying inside of her bed does not fare so well. However, as with most of what he does, these moments of sexual prowess and temptation are not without their ulterior motives. Nobody - occasionally even including himself - is good enough, in his opinion, and, though he does love and respect his wife, he carries his doubts of those feelings being mutual. Cassandra is always so poised, cool, and under control. Hurting her, rising any shred of emotion, is his method of witnessing her love for him in return. And feeling her anger rain down on him is just another sign. Yes, most of what Jakob does is purely for the satisfaction of frustrating his wife.
Jakob seems to feel thoroughly prohibited from expressing himself with large amounts of emotion, a complicated creature behind a simple façade, but the only time that he seems completely released in such a manner is when it comes to his wife or the intoxication immediately following quenching his bloodlust. In the primal corners of his brain, he views Cassandra as his property. He knows that she's beautiful and full of fire, a slice of strength and perfection in a modern world of weakness and flaws, and he knows better than anyone that men can not help their wandering eyes. Therefore, he makes it his obligation to aid them by gouging out their eyes so that their mistake can not be repeated. Though he possesses a long fuse, and any sign of irritation being suffocated beneath a hard exterior, his temper is explosive once it is set off and a key way to spark the fire is to aim for his jealous nature. He doesn't like people touching his things in a manner that he has not permitted, and attempts to seduce his wife will be punished accordingly. Some might assume that the two purposely anger the other for the sole reason of provoking punishment, finding some kind of sickening pleasure in doing so, but it's a habit that is neither confirmed nor denied.
After a particularly successful kill, drunk on the adrenaline and the newfound rush of blood through dead veins, Jakob is far more active than he would be otherwise, and at his most dangerous. He is impulsive and, in his head, invincible. In this state, he doesn't believe that his immortality can be brought to an end, and he's loud and boisterous and maniacal. Itching for any way to release himself, whether it be in sex or further actions of violence. During these fits, he's at his most destructive and chaotic, and the rivers run red with these brief rampages.
He doesn't crave power, as much as he does control. In his opinion, these are, indeed, two very different aspects. Passive control is his game. While he prefers to sit back and let his wife make all the actions and decisions, he manipulates the puppets from behind the curtain. While most would question whether the male is dominant or submissive, carrying a rather commanding demeanour while at the same time submitting to his wife without argument, Jakob finds no problems in playing the role of either. In dominance, he enjoys making the iron fist of his wife vanish for the night and working to make her beg. In submission, he enjoys being dominated and teased. In either case, rough or gentle, he maintains a control that even Cassandra can't seem to break.
When it comes to matters of respect is when Jakob is often finding himself in trouble. He respects no one - occasionally not even himself - and there are moments where he can't bite his tongue in time, though these occasions are very rare. He'll keep an ally out of a most hated enemy if he finds it benefits him in some way. Even when he seems the most compliant or polite, there's always something there withdrawing a sense of respect. Despite a somewhat level-headed nature and a strategic mind, it's not at all rare for Jakob to be a part of a conversation and lose interest midway through, simply zoning out or walking away. Though capable of taking part in the most controversial of debates and revealing his exceptional intellect, he doesn't find as much interest in politics as his patrician wife does, and he knows when it's time to lie down and let it pass, though he is fully capable of agreeing with everything the opposition can provide and still leave with his beliefs firmly intact. That is, of course, if he really did have any beliefs.
On a minor note, Jakob can be a die-hard romantic, though this side has only ever really been witnessed to its fullest by his wife. Though subtle in its tones, he knows how to make her heart pound - again, figuratively - outside the bedroom, as well as in. Why, somewhere during the Renaissance, on their anniversary, he took her to Paris and presented her with the still warm heart of a poet. Romantic, oui?
&&__battle royale
artillary:: Desert Eagle Mark XIX, caliber .50AE (for the nights when it’s all about fun and lots of noise); a pair of SIG-Sauers P250 DC or Berettas PX4 Storm pistol for the night to night deals.
swordsmanship:: A fan and expert of daggers and throwing knives, whether it would appear so or not, there is very rarely a moment where a blade of some form is not found on his person.
martial arts:: nothing specific, but he can break a bone or two without breaking a sweat.
combat:: Laying down the weapons for a fun game of hand-to-hand is his preference above all. Forget the knife and gunplay, feeling the bones crushing beneath his fingers and the blood sliding over his skin is a thrill all on its own. Over the centuries, he has perfected this skill into an art. And he enjoys it about as much.
&&__family history
father’s name:: Izaak Locke
mother’s name:: Josefine Breckner Locke
sibling’s name:: Erich Locke; younger brother
general history::
-Born in Endingen, Germany, Jakob was brought into a rather tense household. The union between 32-year-old Izaak and 16-year-old Josefine was a requirement upon the discovery of an unwanted pregnancy. Izaak had always been a womanizer, and the prematurely well-developed Josefine was no less as immune to his charms as the rest of the female population. After the marriage and birth of his first son, his addiction to the taste of women was never any less sated and a new craving for alcohol was discovered. The man would be known to disappear for any length of time, and his presence in the home was domineering and strict. For the most part, his absences were a blessing. Josefine, on the other hand, was distant. Aloof, she proved uncomfortable in most emotional situations when it came to caring for her son. She settled for doing the minimum that her child required for survival, acting more as a babysitter than a mother. Lacking so greatly in any kind of an emotional relationship with both mother and father, Jakob began to cope with the situation by acting out. Purposely breaking the rules to rise any kind of reaction from his parents because, in his head, feeling anger from them was better than feeling nothing at all. He provoked tantrums from his mother and, inevitably, abuse from his father.
-Throughout school, Jakob proved an exceptional student. Though finding a subject that actually captured and held his interest was a task inside of itself, once he applied himself to his work, he revealed a startling intelligence beyond his years. At first, such a feat as absorbing and remembering information without even needing to take the time to write it down was easy. Simple, and something that would eventually lose its thrill. He'd lose interest, but only in his schoolwork. Making his intellect consistently waver between genius and mediocrity provided a consistent game with the teachers, who just couldn't understand how such alternating could occur. It was a harmless start into the game of manipulation, but one that would blossom with age and practice.
-Shortly after his tenth birthday, Erich Locke was born. A healthy baby boy only two days premature, Jakob provided an instant hatred for the infant. A jealousy that far surpassed the simplicity of sibling rivalry. In every sense of the word, Jakob came to loathe his younger brother. Though Izaak was still relatively absent from the home, no more and no less than usual, Josefine was better accustomed to motherhood by this point. Whether it had taken a second child to activate any maternal instincts or it was simply all in Jakob's head, the eldest Locke boy had decided that Josefine was showing more care for the baby than she ever had for him.
-One morning, a day no different from any other, Josefine came into the nursery to check on Erich, who had, for the first time, seemed to have slept through the entire night. However, she would find her precious baby boy .. dead. The infant was blue and bloated with asphyxiation, a cloth towel from the kitchen practically shoved down his throat. Jakob was in the next room, eating breakfast.
-Izaak officially disappeared shortly after the incident on Jakob's twelfth birthday, leaving with another woman according to the note that he had so politely left behind for a family that he had never managed to love. This new event, coupled with the death of her youngest, was what finally snapped the last shreds of sanity in Josefine. She spiralled into a dark depression and fits of unexplained rage would often include emotional and physical abuse. Abuse that Jakob seemed to actively encourage.
-Jakob, even in life, was never quite right in the head. As he grew, moving into adolescence, his penchant for pain became much more apparent. Torturing animals from impaling lizards on snails to throwing rocks at dogs and bullying classmates from verbal taunting to breaking noses. At 16, a girl accused him of rape, but, before an investigation could take place for such a claim, she withdrew her accusation and promptly disappeared, moving to her grandmother's home in the next city over.
-At 18, Josefine was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers. Jakob played little role in taking care of the woman. She was his mother, yes, but no emotional attachment had ever taken place between the two. If she should happen to wander out of the house in the middle of the night, it mattered little to her son. If she disappeared for a long period of time, he hardly noticed the difference in the sanctum of their home. As time progressed and during certain fits of rage and temper, she began to see him more and more as Izaak. She accused him of infidelity and a cold heart and, on more than one occasion, even began attempting to seduce him. Instead of disgusting or inappropriate, he merely saw her as annoying. No longer someone that he wanted anything to do with.
-Her sudden death when Jakob was 19 was questionable, but the chance to question her son passed away when he moved, disappearing as casually as his father had almost 7 years previously. Despite adopting a somewhat nomadic lifestyle, he remained in Germany. He was always on the move, never settling down. He never allowed himself to form any attachments, keeping any intimate interests at a distance until he was bored with them and never managing to maintain a job for long periods of time. However, it wasn't until passing through Leipzeg that he began to feel the sensation of paranoia that came with being watched.
-Finally, at 28 years of age, Jakob met Sonja. A beautiful Englishwoman of pale skin and vibrant red hair, she claimed to have been watching him for a long time and she'd become aware of a thirst inside of him that he had kept buried for far too long. A thirst that only she would be able to awaken. She seduced and sired him that night.
-Blood didn't start to taint the world by his hand until much later into his unlife. Sonja - sire, mentor, and lover - found it a higher priority to teach him how to control his vampiric abilities for his benefit. She wanted to focus on caring for him and loving him, suffocating him with her need to keep him close to her. However, it would be this exact desire that would lead to their failure. She proved too soft. She thought herself a wicked woman, dining on the blood of the innocent and feasting on the flesh of infants; her sadism never came close to matching that of her childe. She couldn't seem to keep up with him and, in 1715, the two parted ways.
-This did not stop his own progression in leaving behind a trail of blood and tears, though he began to become more keen on covering his tracks; experimenting with his games. His admission into the Meutrier was inevitable, but his meeting with Cassandra was fate. In too little time, she had become everything to him. An extension of his obsession, an embodiment of his strength and of his weakness, and yet this nowhere means she is an exception for his games. Looking back over their years together, it would seem that his lengthy marriage to Casey has made him even more dangerous than he had been in solitary.
Yet another reason to love her.
&&__proving your worth
role-playing sample::
alias:: Cy
age:: 20
experience:: 6 years
other characters here:: none
__++you can call me…
&&__basic information
full name:: Jakob Locke
nickname(s):: Jake, Jay. On account of preference, he just sticks by Jakob.
birthdate:: 27.7.1657 {[July 27, 1657]}
age:: 358; changed at 28
ethnicity:: German
orientation:: Bisexual {[ What? After three and a half centuries, a man is entitled to some experimentation to spice things up! ]}
species:: vampire
belongs to:: Meutrier Coven
title:: spy
&&__physical description
height:: 5'10"
weight:: 164 lbs.
eye color:: Pale Blue
hair color:: Dark Brown
body type:: lean; well-built
distinguishing marks:: none
dress style:: When it comes to wardrobe and general appearance, Jakob is as polar opposite from his wife as could be. Though still maintaining an overall sophisticated air, he is nonchalant of how he comes off to others whereas his beloved Cassandra is precise. Some would say that he shows such disregard for dressing up merely because of his wife's strict criteria for it, which would partly be true. On the other hand, Jakob feels that, despite having the span of eternity to fill, he just can't be bothered to waste his time on trivial matters of what matches with what and the amount of gel shoved into his hair. However, in spite of his lack of effort, Jakob almost always seems clean-cut and handsome in anything he might choose to wear. Tailored suits for professional matters, jeans and T-shirts for casual wear, and leather jackets and trench coats just because; it doesn't much matter, because he'll find a way to pull it all off. Figuratively, and possibly even literally if the night leads that way.
portrayal:: Jonathan Rhys Meyers
picture::
&&__personality test
likes::
• the rain
• star gazing
• alcohol {[ red wine, tequila, etc. ]}
• photography
• blood; the smell, the taste, the feel - a pure aphrodisiac, in his opinion
• sex
• women
• men
• art {[ photography, theatre, poetry, painting, music ]}
• violence
• pain; causing it and feeling it
• passive power; submission and domination
• psychological games
• hunting, alone and with his wife
• making his wife mad ... --such fun
dislikes::
• incompetence & ignorance
• losing
• monotony
• weaknesses
• overt displays of emotion, with the exception of his wife
• being ignored
• arrogance
• feeling less {[inadequate, wrong, weak, worthless, etc.]}
• individuals who pay less than a little attention to their personal hygiene
• anyone insulting his wife, or himself
• seeing his wife hurt, and not of the pleasurable kind
bad habits/quirks::
• star gazing
• people watching
• losing interest in most conversations midway through
• playing people; leading them on with the pre-destined purpose of dropping them
• very cliché, but his wife has swiftly become a bad habit that he can't quit ..
favorite bloodtype:: human; AB
general description:: A predator in every sense of the word, Jakob enjoys nothing more than the pain and discomfort of another being, whether he is the cause of it or not. There are extremely few actions and words that escape him that did not come attached to a large amount of thought. A strategist to the core, wise beyond even his eternal years, Jakob is a sociopath with a taste for overt displays of sadism. Screams are the lullaby that every child should hear, and driving someone to the brink of insanity is a magnificent game. The reward: pushing them off that edge, figuratively and literally.
A man of few words and smaller gestures, Jakob seems to be rather withdrawn and reserved. His silent nature, however, has nothing to do with social anxieties or a general timidity. On the contrary; he is merely sizing up his opponents and his surroundings before he acts. He thinks over every word before he says it, weighing reaction and consequence, and this faux modesty is only a method of uncovering the best method of attack. When riled up or merely in the mood to gather enemies, Jakob holds no qualms in striking for the soft underside of his foe and he is certainly not one to find himself above getting dirty when in a fight, whether it be physical or mental.
Blessed with a silver tongue, he is a man who could persuade a monk into murder and the Mother Teresa into the most perverse of actions. His ability to lie and to seduce are phenomenal, honed and sharpened after centuries of practice, and he seems to show no preference in whom becomes a part of his games. Truth is a story that he rarely weaves and, though he doesn't go out of his way to spin tales over every little thing, it's rare that any dip into his past isn't missing a large chunk. In opposition, he is cursed with a loose sense of monogamy and, though the emotional loyalty to his wife is unquestionable, his capability of strictly staying inside of her bed does not fare so well. However, as with most of what he does, these moments of sexual prowess and temptation are not without their ulterior motives. Nobody - occasionally even including himself - is good enough, in his opinion, and, though he does love and respect his wife, he carries his doubts of those feelings being mutual. Cassandra is always so poised, cool, and under control. Hurting her, rising any shred of emotion, is his method of witnessing her love for him in return. And feeling her anger rain down on him is just another sign. Yes, most of what Jakob does is purely for the satisfaction of frustrating his wife.
Jakob seems to feel thoroughly prohibited from expressing himself with large amounts of emotion, a complicated creature behind a simple façade, but the only time that he seems completely released in such a manner is when it comes to his wife or the intoxication immediately following quenching his bloodlust. In the primal corners of his brain, he views Cassandra as his property. He knows that she's beautiful and full of fire, a slice of strength and perfection in a modern world of weakness and flaws, and he knows better than anyone that men can not help their wandering eyes. Therefore, he makes it his obligation to aid them by gouging out their eyes so that their mistake can not be repeated. Though he possesses a long fuse, and any sign of irritation being suffocated beneath a hard exterior, his temper is explosive once it is set off and a key way to spark the fire is to aim for his jealous nature. He doesn't like people touching his things in a manner that he has not permitted, and attempts to seduce his wife will be punished accordingly. Some might assume that the two purposely anger the other for the sole reason of provoking punishment, finding some kind of sickening pleasure in doing so, but it's a habit that is neither confirmed nor denied.
After a particularly successful kill, drunk on the adrenaline and the newfound rush of blood through dead veins, Jakob is far more active than he would be otherwise, and at his most dangerous. He is impulsive and, in his head, invincible. In this state, he doesn't believe that his immortality can be brought to an end, and he's loud and boisterous and maniacal. Itching for any way to release himself, whether it be in sex or further actions of violence. During these fits, he's at his most destructive and chaotic, and the rivers run red with these brief rampages.
He doesn't crave power, as much as he does control. In his opinion, these are, indeed, two very different aspects. Passive control is his game. While he prefers to sit back and let his wife make all the actions and decisions, he manipulates the puppets from behind the curtain. While most would question whether the male is dominant or submissive, carrying a rather commanding demeanour while at the same time submitting to his wife without argument, Jakob finds no problems in playing the role of either. In dominance, he enjoys making the iron fist of his wife vanish for the night and working to make her beg. In submission, he enjoys being dominated and teased. In either case, rough or gentle, he maintains a control that even Cassandra can't seem to break.
When it comes to matters of respect is when Jakob is often finding himself in trouble. He respects no one - occasionally not even himself - and there are moments where he can't bite his tongue in time, though these occasions are very rare. He'll keep an ally out of a most hated enemy if he finds it benefits him in some way. Even when he seems the most compliant or polite, there's always something there withdrawing a sense of respect. Despite a somewhat level-headed nature and a strategic mind, it's not at all rare for Jakob to be a part of a conversation and lose interest midway through, simply zoning out or walking away. Though capable of taking part in the most controversial of debates and revealing his exceptional intellect, he doesn't find as much interest in politics as his patrician wife does, and he knows when it's time to lie down and let it pass, though he is fully capable of agreeing with everything the opposition can provide and still leave with his beliefs firmly intact. That is, of course, if he really did have any beliefs.
On a minor note, Jakob can be a die-hard romantic, though this side has only ever really been witnessed to its fullest by his wife. Though subtle in its tones, he knows how to make her heart pound - again, figuratively - outside the bedroom, as well as in. Why, somewhere during the Renaissance, on their anniversary, he took her to Paris and presented her with the still warm heart of a poet. Romantic, oui?
&&__battle royale
artillary:: Desert Eagle Mark XIX, caliber .50AE (for the nights when it’s all about fun and lots of noise); a pair of SIG-Sauers P250 DC or Berettas PX4 Storm pistol for the night to night deals.
swordsmanship:: A fan and expert of daggers and throwing knives, whether it would appear so or not, there is very rarely a moment where a blade of some form is not found on his person.
martial arts:: nothing specific, but he can break a bone or two without breaking a sweat.
combat:: Laying down the weapons for a fun game of hand-to-hand is his preference above all. Forget the knife and gunplay, feeling the bones crushing beneath his fingers and the blood sliding over his skin is a thrill all on its own. Over the centuries, he has perfected this skill into an art. And he enjoys it about as much.
&&__family history
father’s name:: Izaak Locke
mother’s name:: Josefine Breckner Locke
sibling’s name:: Erich Locke; younger brother
general history::
-Born in Endingen, Germany, Jakob was brought into a rather tense household. The union between 32-year-old Izaak and 16-year-old Josefine was a requirement upon the discovery of an unwanted pregnancy. Izaak had always been a womanizer, and the prematurely well-developed Josefine was no less as immune to his charms as the rest of the female population. After the marriage and birth of his first son, his addiction to the taste of women was never any less sated and a new craving for alcohol was discovered. The man would be known to disappear for any length of time, and his presence in the home was domineering and strict. For the most part, his absences were a blessing. Josefine, on the other hand, was distant. Aloof, she proved uncomfortable in most emotional situations when it came to caring for her son. She settled for doing the minimum that her child required for survival, acting more as a babysitter than a mother. Lacking so greatly in any kind of an emotional relationship with both mother and father, Jakob began to cope with the situation by acting out. Purposely breaking the rules to rise any kind of reaction from his parents because, in his head, feeling anger from them was better than feeling nothing at all. He provoked tantrums from his mother and, inevitably, abuse from his father.
-Throughout school, Jakob proved an exceptional student. Though finding a subject that actually captured and held his interest was a task inside of itself, once he applied himself to his work, he revealed a startling intelligence beyond his years. At first, such a feat as absorbing and remembering information without even needing to take the time to write it down was easy. Simple, and something that would eventually lose its thrill. He'd lose interest, but only in his schoolwork. Making his intellect consistently waver between genius and mediocrity provided a consistent game with the teachers, who just couldn't understand how such alternating could occur. It was a harmless start into the game of manipulation, but one that would blossom with age and practice.
-Shortly after his tenth birthday, Erich Locke was born. A healthy baby boy only two days premature, Jakob provided an instant hatred for the infant. A jealousy that far surpassed the simplicity of sibling rivalry. In every sense of the word, Jakob came to loathe his younger brother. Though Izaak was still relatively absent from the home, no more and no less than usual, Josefine was better accustomed to motherhood by this point. Whether it had taken a second child to activate any maternal instincts or it was simply all in Jakob's head, the eldest Locke boy had decided that Josefine was showing more care for the baby than she ever had for him.
-One morning, a day no different from any other, Josefine came into the nursery to check on Erich, who had, for the first time, seemed to have slept through the entire night. However, she would find her precious baby boy .. dead. The infant was blue and bloated with asphyxiation, a cloth towel from the kitchen practically shoved down his throat. Jakob was in the next room, eating breakfast.
-Izaak officially disappeared shortly after the incident on Jakob's twelfth birthday, leaving with another woman according to the note that he had so politely left behind for a family that he had never managed to love. This new event, coupled with the death of her youngest, was what finally snapped the last shreds of sanity in Josefine. She spiralled into a dark depression and fits of unexplained rage would often include emotional and physical abuse. Abuse that Jakob seemed to actively encourage.
-Jakob, even in life, was never quite right in the head. As he grew, moving into adolescence, his penchant for pain became much more apparent. Torturing animals from impaling lizards on snails to throwing rocks at dogs and bullying classmates from verbal taunting to breaking noses. At 16, a girl accused him of rape, but, before an investigation could take place for such a claim, she withdrew her accusation and promptly disappeared, moving to her grandmother's home in the next city over.
-At 18, Josefine was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers. Jakob played little role in taking care of the woman. She was his mother, yes, but no emotional attachment had ever taken place between the two. If she should happen to wander out of the house in the middle of the night, it mattered little to her son. If she disappeared for a long period of time, he hardly noticed the difference in the sanctum of their home. As time progressed and during certain fits of rage and temper, she began to see him more and more as Izaak. She accused him of infidelity and a cold heart and, on more than one occasion, even began attempting to seduce him. Instead of disgusting or inappropriate, he merely saw her as annoying. No longer someone that he wanted anything to do with.
-Her sudden death when Jakob was 19 was questionable, but the chance to question her son passed away when he moved, disappearing as casually as his father had almost 7 years previously. Despite adopting a somewhat nomadic lifestyle, he remained in Germany. He was always on the move, never settling down. He never allowed himself to form any attachments, keeping any intimate interests at a distance until he was bored with them and never managing to maintain a job for long periods of time. However, it wasn't until passing through Leipzeg that he began to feel the sensation of paranoia that came with being watched.
-Finally, at 28 years of age, Jakob met Sonja. A beautiful Englishwoman of pale skin and vibrant red hair, she claimed to have been watching him for a long time and she'd become aware of a thirst inside of him that he had kept buried for far too long. A thirst that only she would be able to awaken. She seduced and sired him that night.
-Blood didn't start to taint the world by his hand until much later into his unlife. Sonja - sire, mentor, and lover - found it a higher priority to teach him how to control his vampiric abilities for his benefit. She wanted to focus on caring for him and loving him, suffocating him with her need to keep him close to her. However, it would be this exact desire that would lead to their failure. She proved too soft. She thought herself a wicked woman, dining on the blood of the innocent and feasting on the flesh of infants; her sadism never came close to matching that of her childe. She couldn't seem to keep up with him and, in 1715, the two parted ways.
-This did not stop his own progression in leaving behind a trail of blood and tears, though he began to become more keen on covering his tracks; experimenting with his games. His admission into the Meutrier was inevitable, but his meeting with Cassandra was fate. In too little time, she had become everything to him. An extension of his obsession, an embodiment of his strength and of his weakness, and yet this nowhere means she is an exception for his games. Looking back over their years together, it would seem that his lengthy marriage to Casey has made him even more dangerous than he had been in solitary.
Yet another reason to love her.
&&__proving your worth
role-playing sample::
| QUOTE |
| She turned to face him and those lips that swelled with temptation were only that much more desirable stained in crimson. Red had always been her colour, he thought. He loved to see her soaked in it. And the crimson that washed over her fangs and the edges of her mouth was a tease that she took far too much pleasure inside of. Every movement that she made was a strategic tease, designed purely for the love of taunt. She despised him; this he knew far too well, 'fore he could simply feel the hatred that radiated from her in billows. She had not asked for eternity like that puppet lying at her feet had. He had brought her into it for his own selfish reasoning; she had every right to hate him. But she hadn't seen then how suited she was for this existance. She was deadly, and that kind of nature could not be properly harvested in life. No, he had known then that she would come to forgive him. Five hundred plus years later and she had still not done so, but she was coming closer. Yes, he could feel her coming closer with every moan that escaped her lips by his provocation. Every time she whispered his name and caressed his skin with those crimson moist lips, he knew that there was a passion inside of her that was slowly losing that touch of hatred. And he wasn't too sure what he would do with her when the bruises and the scars and the disrespect that his body was forced to heal from would lose their sharp edge, because he highly doubted that her likeness of his beloved Esmé would stop him from taking her out of this life any more than it had done so in the last A smirk turned the right corner of his lips, steel blue eyes watching her every movement as she moved closer to him. "Oh, nigh, one can never have all of you. You simply won't allow that." He returned just as smoothly, the accent of his homecountry still rolling off his tongue as lilting as if he'd just stepped foot off Scottish soil yesterday. It may not have been considered one of the top romantic languages in the world, but a true Scot could charm his way into the heart of any man or woman. That was without a doubt. He had charmed her married self into his bed so very long ago. And his words were double-edged, for even he had not attained all of her. Her tongue was slow as it ran across the underside of her lips, lapping up the blood of her fallen marionette and she savoured it. He knew not for any particular fondness of the flavour this mortal had provided, but for the sheer luxury of the taunt. Flirting with her maker and taking pleasure in his eye catching on the single drop that eased down from the corner of her mouth. Tainting her skin and, even in death, it seemed this human still had the chance to touch her while Colin continued to keep his arms crossed over his chest. Remaining patient until she came into reach. So very close, the air between them almost crackling with the electricity of pent up tension and hatred and raw desire, and the fingers of her right hand came up to wipe the trickle away before it moved any further while she asked for his opinion on the show. She was a feisty creature, independent, but she'd always search for his opinion. Ask him what he thought, how he felt, so on and so forth. A subtle and dangerous game to know him, to seek approval that she didn't even know she wanted. His hand darted out then, catching her wrist before she could envelope those stained fingers between her lips and he stepped forward, holding her eye with all the challenge of an alpha stepping into the territory of another. "Aye, that I did. Brilliant choice of music." He complimented, catching and holding her sharp blue gaze with his own as he simultaneously brought her hand up and moved his head down, capturing the tip of her finger between his lips to taste the pet she'd used until she had lost her interest in him. Tongue sliding over skin and blood, the combination was as shocking as he remembered. Sweet and bitter, as she was. When he removed her finger from his mouth, eyes still forever trapped on her own, he made no move to initially release her wrist. "You've always had a way with a crowd." His whisper was husky, deep and sensual; a tone that could rock one to the very core and back. |
member title:: [p u n i s h . m e]
erin - September 25, 2007 11:49 PM (GMT)
Sorry this has taken so long!
It's a great profile, the only reason it sucks is because Jonathan Rhys-Meyers is hot and taken! =/
ACCEPTED!
Welcome to the site! Enjoy your stay!
It's a great profile, the only reason it sucks is because Jonathan Rhys-Meyers is hot and taken! =/
ACCEPTED!
Welcome to the site! Enjoy your stay!