Post by jacksonpietro on Sept 20, 2010 10:38:20 GMT -7
JACKSON ISAIAH PIETRO
"i know i shouldn't waste my time,
wishing i'd been better designed,
yet for some reason still think
i am wrecked"
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I AM BEYOND GOD
[/font]I AM HUMAN
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Full Name: Jackson Isaiah Pietro
Nickname(s): Jackie, Baby (used by both his current and past mothers)
Gender: Male
Age: Fifteen
Birthdate: 15 September 1995
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Reincarnate: Yes
I am: Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov
Played By: Sam Pullee
Grade: Freshman
Boarding: Yes
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OUR SHINING FUTURE
[/font]IN REVOLT
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Height: 5'6"
Weight: 127 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blond
Build: Skinny
Scars: None
Piercings/Tattoos: None
Personal Style:
Jackson always makes absolutely certain he looks presentable before going out. He will not, as some teens do, pick up the first thing he finds on the floor and put it on, even if he is in a hurry. His clothes are either clean and washed, or he will not wear them. To that same end, Jackson puts effort into making sure his clothes match. It is not so much a personal decision as it is a force of habit, ingrained in him by his mother. She had always been something of a fashionista herself, and has always had a tendency to give long winded lectures about the importance of each piece of an outfit complimenting each other. Jackson could recall several times where she sent him back to his room to change, and several more times she picked out his clothes for him (much to his chagrin). He knows much more about fashion than he ever cared to, and often hears his mother's voice in the back of his head when he's picking out clothes that he knows she would never want to see together. On several occasions when she's not around to see (especially now that he's away at school) Jackson's rebellious streak will lead him to make odd fashion choices, though the fact that he keeps himself a tad too well groomed detracts from the effect.
Jackson's style varies from a simple alternative edge to classic and tasteful. (Though his mother has on more than one occasion attempted to sway him to try more outlandish fashions to no avail.) He likes graphic t-shirts and jeans, occasionally pairing it with a blazer or hoodie, and generally prefers to wear sneakers. He does have a taste for buying jackets, and come the colder seasons, is quite proud to display the wide array of them he has accumulated over the years. In truth, Jackson does own much more clothes than is necessary, and because of that is rarely seen wearing the same outfit twice. Much, if not all of the clothes Jackson owns are designer, save for a few one of a kind vintage pieces. Coming from wealth, Jackson has the means to afford expensive clothes, and his expensive taste is in no way discouraged by his parents (rather his mother encourages it). His favorite designer is Dolce & Gabbana, and a good deal of the clothes he owns carries that brand. Of course, all of his designer clothes have earned him occasional jealousy, and leads some to write him off as snobbish because of it.
Appearance:
The most noticeable feature of Jackson's physical appearance is his apparent frailty. Though he possesses a small frame and is naturally skinny, he lacks any real muscle definition and has a good deal of trouble keeping on weight. Thus he gives off the appearance of not only being waiflike but underfed. Jackson in the very least dislikes how thin he is, to which he thinks he looks something like a girl, and certainly not like anyone tough or formidable. His legs are long and scrawny and his arms are long and scrawny. He does, on several occasions, attempt to give himself the illusion of having more to him with the clothes he wears, but even that does little to hide it. When he removes his shirt his scrawniness is even more evident, as his ribs protrude to just a noticeable degree.
Jackson's face is very angular, with a strong chin and well defined jaw line. He has high cheekbones, but they do not jut out to such a degree of prominence that he has a feminine face. His nose is rather short and straight, though well proportioned to his face. Overall he exudes a decidedly masculine appearance, save for his fuller and slightly pouty lips. He feels his facial structure makes up for his girlish body a good deal.
It was quite obvious that Jackson inherited most, if not all of his looks from his mother. Though his father has considerably lighter features than a typical full blooded Italian, Jackson's features are much, much lighter, like that of his mother's family. His skin tone is considerably light and pale, augmented by his light hair and eyes. Jackson is blond like his mother, though his hair is something of an ash blond whereas hers is slightly lighter. In the summer his hair lightens a great deal, so much on occasion that it will have a faint white tint to it. Jackson wears his hair short with bangs, though prefers to let the back grow out slightly. Jackson has also inherited his mother's pale blue eyes, which are perhaps his most striking feature, in part because he has unusually big eyes and because they can appear brighter than the color warrants.
HOPE AND HORROR
[/font]MIXED IN BLOOD[/size][/center]
Likes: playing pranks; mischief and rule-breaking (to varying degrees); Russia; singing, theatre; guitar; summer; video games; outspoken girls; ships; sailing; the outdoors;
Dislikes: basements; radical thought; restrictions; guns; action movies; people who put no effort into their appearance; apathy; peanuts; most contemporary pop music; culturally ignorant people; people who give up too easily; being sick all the time, again;
Dreams: That a cure for hemophilia will be discovered in his lifetime; That he might meet some of his past family, hoping especially that he will find one of his sisters; That he might make something of himself with music, perhaps even making it all the way to Broadway; To visit Russia and see what's become of it;
Fears: captivity; being murdered again; ending up alone; not living life to the fullest and looking back on his life with regret;
Habits/Hobbies: Being multilingual, Jackson has a tendency to slip foreign words in mid conversation when speaking English;
During his free time he enjoys taking popular songs and parodying them;
When listening to music he "jams out" a bit too enthusiastically, lip syncing and dancing. He does this as well when walking alone listening to his iPod, which often earns him odd looks. Usually in public he tries to catch himself at it, and generally fails miserably;
Collects buttons which he carries with him always in a cloth bag in his pocket;
Secret(s): Though Jackson does remember the night he was murdered in his past life, he does his best to forget the memory at all costs, fearing what remembering it in vivid detail would do to him.
Personality:
Coming from an exceptionally wealthy family, Jackson was always afforded luxury. Money never being an object, he has yet to learn any financial responsibility, and is quite prone to frivolous spending binges. His parents, never showing him the pitfalls of that habit have in turn stunted his ultimate maturity. In that he is spoiled, Jackson generally expects his wishes to be fulfilled immediately upon request, often making him come off as demanding and bratty. Such behaviors have never been headed off at home, allowing them to increase in severity and frequency. Though Jackson is carefully monitored by his parents overall, they never discipline him by any means he ever really responds to. His parents' idea of discipline lacks force behind it, as they are generally gentle in reprimanding him. On the off chance they are actually stern with him, he had a tendency to whine and lose his temper to such a degree that punishments never last very long. Though he does not recognize it, his parents' lax approach to discipline has given him something of a dominant mentality when it comes to dealing with them, and unwittingly he manipulates them with overdramatic emotions. His parents, especially his mother, mollycoddle and dote on him, especially because he is an only child. While Jackson revels in their attention at times, he can also find it restricting and oppressive. He likes to have his way, he likes to get whatever he wants, but he does not like being treated like a young child.
Jackson is mischievous to a great degree. He likes the idea of troublemaking, finding the idea of rebelling thrilling, and a real affirmation of being young and lively. He lives for the experience, relishing the liberating feelings of being a bad boy as well as the anxiety of potentially getting caught, and the victory of getting away with rule breaking. To an end that he will not recognize, he hopes that his roguish behavior will impress his peers, and earn him an up in social status, if not also an up in respect. To that end, he unwittingly shows off when he's misbehaving if he can. Jackson also has a great taste for playing pranks, and has become more and more elaborate over the years in the schemes he sets up. Generally, he means his pranks to be done in good humor, having quite the sense of humor himself. Every so often, however, he pushes the limits with his jokes, and lands himself in a bit of trouble. Still, it does not deter him. He enjoys laughing just as much as he enjoys being daring.
Meticulous in everything he does, Jackson has a great attention to detail. He always takes the time to study all aspects of any given subject, and if he is interested in what he is studying, he will go above and beyond to pick apart every last detail of it. This aspect of himself has also earned him the ability to read people, having spent ample time studying people's facial expressions and intonations, he generally has a fairly good perception of their emotions. This makes it particularly difficult for people to suppress emotions around him. Though he might not always be particularly correct in assuming what they are feeling, he usually has a fair idea if someone is concealing an emotion. To that end he will pick and pry at them until they provide him was a satisfactory answer. This quality of his can make him an annoyance to overly secretive people. His meticulous nature also expands to his personal appearance, and those of others. He expects himself and those around him to look presentable, and can become agitated when those standards are not met, to which he will criticize and nitpick until they are. Still for as meticulous as he is, he does not put forth any effort to extend it to organizational skills or schoolwork. In contrast Jackson is decidedly lazy, and if something does not interest or benefit him he sees no point in putting forth effort. In that he will allow himself a degree of sloppiness when he does not care, but even so his schoolwork still comes out fairly detailed.
Despite the general perception that Jackson is completely self centered, he does have a compassionate side to him. He will help someone when given the chance if he is capable of doing it, and does find even the smallest reward of having a positive effect in someone's life. He has, on a few occasions extended this kindness to strangers, seeing it to some degree as a measure of duty. Whatever compassion he may show to strangers or acquaintances is greatly magnified when dealing with those he loves. He does his best to be supportive of his friends, so much to the degree that he goes out of his way to see them happy. He does genuinely try to embody the qualities of a good and loyal friend, and will, to some degree, give second chances when he has been hurt. Jackson is also very affectionate, and when someone is in his good favor he will show them visible displays. Though he has not had a girlfriend yet (or rather nothing so serious as to count as a real girlfriend), he is quite certain that he would be the romantic type. Even though he does not believe he would be particularly opposed to public displays of affection, he assures himself he would have to keep them to a minimum, as not to emasculate himself and destroy the semblance of a bad boy image he thinks he has.
Even though Jackson is lazy, he does like to keep himself busy with something he enjoys. Otherwise he is quite prone for extreme boredom to set in much faster than it should. In those periods he becomes sulky and irritable until he finds something to occupy his time. To that end when he goes through an extended period of time without finding something interesting to do, or else his laziness has set in to a higher degree he will have a tendency towards depression. He has, thus far, always worked himself through those periods of depression, though the time it takes to work through them varies from case to case. Jackson likes to be legitimately active, as he does enjoy the outdoors and sports (although he rarely gets to participate in them), and likes spending as much time outside as he can.
Upon first meeting, Jackson is initially very shy, though one would not suppose so at first glance. In classes he can act very animated, but when pulling him aside his timid side is very visible. While he can hold a conversation, generally it needs to be lead by the other person. While he has compassion for other people, and seeks understanding of them, he is rather guarded with himself. It takes a fair amount of time for him to build up trust in a person, and thus friendship comes in steady stages. There have been a select few he had taken to immediately, but they are few and far between. Generally in group meetings with new people (especially when one of that number is someone he is comfortable around) he will be more animated. Even so, he generally needs an extra push to fully integrate him into the conversation and happenings. On very rare bouts he will open up and be completely himself, as animated and chatty as he is with his friends, but they last very shortly, and generally lead to his embarrassment with being so unnecessarily open. As of recently he has been trying to work through his inherent shyness, and tried to start conversations, especially now that he is at a new school. As much as he hopes friends will flock to him, he supposes he needs to put forth some effort.
PRETTY BOY, PRETTY GIRL
[/font]PRETTY INSANE[/size][/center]
Mother: Miranda Pietro, 43, Socialite (if that can really count as a job)
Father: Vittore Pietro, 55, Plastic Surgeon
Siblings: None
Other: Giovanni Pietro, cousin, 17, student at Riverdale High
Pets: None (although he's been asking for a dog for years to no avail)
Hometown: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA
History:
California native Miranda Harding was not particularly enjoying her new life in Pennsylvania, despite her excitement to move into her new (and expensive) Philadelphia apartment her father had bought for her and her older sister, Lillian. Having always been very close to her sister, Lillian could not stand to see Miranda upset and thus discussed with their father something that might bring Miranda's spirits back up. Miranda's 21st birthday nearing, Lillian devised a perfect birthday gift, and surprised Miranda with the idea. The sisters could go for breast augmentation together, paid half and half by Lillian and their father. Miranda, vain as she was, was ecstatic about the idea, and immediately began riffling through potential plastic surgeons to do the work. Ultimately she and Lillian decided on Dr. Vittore Pietro, on a tip from a friend back in Los Angeles, who had her breasts done by him, and assured them that he was as good as anyone they might have found in Beverly Hills. Thus the sisters made an appointment and met with him, giggling as they discussed just how much they were going to inflate their chests. On Miranda's birthday the two went in for their surgeries, both a complete success, and emerged much bustier women.
Though Miranda did not stop seeing the surgeon after her follow up appointments, but rather hung around his office, flirting at every chance she had. She was not quite sure what drew her to him, whether it was his over the top Italian heritage, or his good looks, or perhaps that he was rich (though not nearly as much as she was). Either way Vittore returned her attentions, and the two began dating, though in secret, as Miranda was not so certain if her father would approve of her seeing a man 12 years her senior. Still, what might have began as a fling quickly evolved into something much more serious. By the time she was 23, Vittore proposed to her. Miranda ran with the news to her father and sister, both of whom initially greatly disapproved (though with much pouting, crying and arguing) finally conceded to support Miranda in her marriage. In a grand wedding (financed by Miranda's father) the two were married, before returning to Philadelphia. The two found a home of their own (a rather grandiose penthouse apartment near center city paid for by Miranda's father) and settled into married life.
It was not even a year before they began discussing children. Several of Vittore's brothers already had children, and after making explicitly known that he wanted the same, Miranda agreed, knowing that her father would be pleased to have grandchildren, and excited that she would have a child to dress up and show off to her friends. So began her attempts to get pregnant. But two years past with no luck, leaving her and Vittore to wonder if they were capable of having children. When she suggested adoption, he declined, saying it would be breaking his family tradition. He shown himself to be truthfully disappointed in the prospect that his brothers would all have children and keep the family going while his line died out. They tried for another year to no avail. Finally, when they were nearing giving up, Miranda became pregnant. Ecstatic, the couple began making plans for their new arrival, as Vittore called and bragged to his siblings. Upon discovering that they would be having a son, Vittore's bragging only increased. For much of the pregnancy, the two fought over names. Vittore determined to give his son a good Italian name. Miranda disagreed, and wanted something she thought was cute. Ultimately, she used her pouting and crying to get her way (and the argument that she was the one who had to look fat for nine months, and ruin her expensive breasts), and the boy's name was predetermined: Jackson Isaiah. On September 15, 1995, the boy was born.
But the celebration of his birth was short lived, and was instead replaced by panic. During the routine circumcision procedure, the infant began to bleed heavily, and continued to. Emergency measures had to be taken. The boy required a blood transfusion. Miranda's joy over her newborn was quickly replaced with hysteria when the doctors had informed her what had happened. She was not ready to lose the child she had tried so hard for, and thus demanded his safety rather viciously, and continued to argue with every medical personnel she came in contact with until receiving news that her son had been stabilized. Immediately following blood tests were run, and the Pietros waited anxiously for an explanation. Yet the explanation they received was far less than favorable. Jackson had hemophilia B, the rarer form of the disorder. They were not comforted either when the doctor's had informed them that his case was severe. Immediately Vittore's inclination to brag was halted, his son (and probably the only child he was ever going to have) was sick. Certainly it had not been what he had expected, and wistfully thought of his brothers, and their healthy children. Miranda was distraught. Her perfect idea of her child shattered. Yet this was still their child. Their only child.
Much of Jackson's first few years of life were spent in and out of hospitals. His parents had adapted as best they could, putting much work into their home to make it safe for their son (which included the tedious process of carpeting their hardwood flooring) and ultimately proved to be devoted parents, Miranda especially, having seemed to grow up quite considerably with the responsibility placed upon her (which certainly impressed her sister). But Jackson, whose life was already far from normal, would prove himself to be far more unique. At five years old, Jackson had veritably no company but his mother, she having kept her only son out of the schooling system thus far, not wanting to risk the potential and likely roughness of other young boys, especially with Jackson's condition. So he had spent his kindergarten being homeschooled. Though he had always been close to his mother, he knew something was missing. His sisters. He had not seen any of them in so long, and began to wonder why his parents had not let him see them. Ultimately he decided to approach his parents on the matter, asking why they always kept him alone. "Couldn't you at least let Anastasia come play?" he asked them one night at dinner. His parents exchanged glances at that, and told him, gently but firmly, that he had never had any sisters. Yet he continued to insist. "Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia. My sisters. You know them."
His parents wrote him off as having "imaginary friends," to which point his father took it upon himself to see that Jackson was sent to a real school, to interact with real children, so he would have no need to make up imaginary sisters. Miranda was wary at first, but agreed on a small and exclusive private school in the area. Thus Jackson began his first real year of schooling at St. Peter's. Of course his parents had been very clear with the school's administration about what they expected for Jackson, and how he should be "taken care of." Ultimately he found it meant being excluded from athletics, and being dragged off to sit in the nurse's office for replacement therapy that had become all too common at home, but found it considerably embarrassing in front of his peers. He remembers very vividly sitting and watching his classmates play soccer beside another boy who had been given a pass to be excused because he had been sick that week. The boy had asked Jackson why he never played with everyone else. Jackson simply shrugged. He had told the boy that his life had always been like this, being constantly monitored. Yet he told the boy that Nagorny at least let him play before. When asked what he meant by that, Jackson said nothing. Truly, he was not sure what he meant, but he was absolutely certain he was right in saying it.
As he continued in school, Jackson did make a fair few good friends, and found where he lacked in athletic ability, he well made up for in troublemaking. Jackson had found a great taste for pulling pranks, and through his years at school had become quite famous for it, one in particular that earned him his fame was that he managed to sneak into the principal's office and rearrange all the files on his desk, so that everything was left in complete chaos. Of course his parents were notified of this, but they rarely did little to punish him. It was also around this time, when Jackson had only just turned eight years old that his grandfather had died, and left his mother a substantial fortune. Whereas they were already wealthy, Miranda's inheritance upped their social standing to an even greater elite, and with that, she was determined to spoil her only son further. But Jackson was more concerned with an internal struggle, a confusion he had been trying to work through for some time now.
All the dreams he had been having, all those that he could remember, had been in another language. But not Italian, that he knew from his father, but something else. But he had understood it perfectly, and was quite certain that if he really wanted to, he could still speak it when he was awake. Stranger still, was the boy in his dreams was never him, but he always that same boy. The others he dreamed of. He was so certain that he knew them. He had the sisters he was once so sure he had in those dreams. Everything seemed so real. He decided he would not outright tell his parents about his dreams. He doubted they would be much help at all. So he sat and pondered on his own. He never came to any conclusion, and the dreams kept coming.
He tried his best then to focus on his life at hand, and found a small relief from his badgering thoughts in newfound interests of his. Jackson discovered a love for theatre as well as singing, both of which he found himself to be considerably talented at. He had even impressed his teachers, who assured him that he might very well land a lead role in the school musical once he was old enough to participate. So Jackson worked to hone his talents, hoping he might have something worth showing off the next time he went to visit his father's family. He did not particularly enjoy his Italian side of the family. His cousins were all very loud and boisterous, and had a horrible tendency to poke fun at Jackson for not being as able bodied as all of them were. Wickedly he thought he could pull pranks on all of them if he couldn't impress them with his vocal talents. The next family gathering was set for July 16th, for his cousin, Giovanni's, 13th birthday. Thus Jackson resentfully boarded a plane to his cousin's home in North Carolina.
The party went just as Jackson expected it, his cousin's either ignored him or taunted him, and seemed to take great pride in showing off in a game of backyard soccer (much to Jackson's dismay as he thoroughly enjoyed the sport). Jackson had considered being civil towards his cousin until Giovanni sent the soccer ball hurtling purposefully towards Jackson's face. (Which he thankfully dodged, and Giovanni got a good telling off for it.) But, Jackson, having had quite enough of his cousin's ignorance, decided to get back at him by replacing one of the candles on his cake with a small firecracker. Jackson watched with great smugness as the cake blew up in his cousin's face just as he was about to blow out the candles. Jackson played innocent after the incident (which to his pleasure all the adults believed him) but his cousin certainly did not.
Jackson and his parents were staying at his cousin's house for the night, before flying back to Pennsylvania the next morning. Jackson was thoroughly looking forward to going home. For some reason, as the day wore on, he felt some strange, sinking feeling. A feeling of foreboding. It was around midnight when his cousin decided to take his revenge. Giovanni and his three older brothers woke Jackson up. They told him they thought the firecracker was a "cool" prank, and because of just how cool it was, they were going to let him in on a secret, one they swore they had not let their other cousins in on. Against his better judgment, Jackson agreed, with the vain hope that he, perhaps, had finally earned some respect from them. When they told him they kept their secret in the basement, Jackson became slightly worried. Living in an apartment, he had never even been in a basement, nor had he ever had any desire to. There was something oddly eerie about them. Yet, for the sake of toughness, Jackson agreed.
His cousins led him to a small room in the basement, by the looks of it, a storage room, and told him to wait there while they went to get "the secret." Jackson stood, waiting. Something was wrong. He knew it. He looked around him. His family looked tense too. His father sat, stony faced, staring at the door. His mother, though silent, looked over, smiled briefly at him and whispered, "Lyubimaya, ne volnooysya." He glanced back at his sisters. Everyone was quiet. He looked back at the door expectantly, waiting. A count of three from the other side, and Jackson's cousins all broke in the room, carrying guns. Before they could laugh, or revel in the effect of scaring him, Jackson was on the floor screaming. "Nyet! Nyet! Pomogite! Nyet!"
Jackson ended up in the hospital that night. He awoke the next morning, unaware of how he ended up there. Upon asking his parents they told him they had not been sure either. His father recounted Giovanni's version of the story, that they had been playing a game when Jackson had some sort of fit. Jackson snorted. The last thing he would want to do would be to play anything with his cousin. But still, he could not quite remember. He only had flashes of a memory. In a room with his family. Waiting for something. The more he tried to force himself to remember though, the more he failed. He knew only one thing. He hated basements.
Jackson remained haunted in the slightest by his dreams and fragmented memories. They never made sense to him, until he was 13. His 7th grade history class was studying the Russian Revolution. Immediately the subject peaked his interest. He had always found Russia interesting in itself, and so approached the subject with curiosity. But upon opening the textbook, he felt flooded with what must have been memories. He knew it. He knew it all. It was a strange feeling, and impossible one. But not nearly as strange as when he stumbled across a picture of Tsar Nicholas and his family. He traced the people with his fingers, his father, his mother, his sisters, and himself. The boy he had been in his dreams was here, staring at him from the pages of a textbook.
Immediately upon coming home, he hurried to his computer, and began researching the Romanovs. Everything. He already knew everything. These were not dreams, they were memories. Unnerved, Jackson delved into further research, on people who could recall memories of others. He came across the subject of reincarnation, and what he read on the subject had sealed his lifelong mystery. The language he had been dreaming in had been Russian. He had been Russian, and he had not been just anyone. He had been the heir to the Russian Throne, Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov. He had not changed much, he though cynically, from his personality to his hemophilia. But with the peace that was this understanding, came an unpleasant thought. He had never become Tsar of Russia. He and his family had been held in captivity, and then murdered by Revolutionaries. He thought back to Giovanni's party with a sickening realization. His cousin was born on the day he had been assassinated. No wonder he had felt strange on that day. He recalled Giovanni bursting through the door with a gun, so very reminiscent of the night he died. Jackson was very much aware of how brutally he and his family were killed, but he would make a point to block out that memory. He did not want to think. He did not want to remember that.
That summer brought another unpleasant discovery, almost making it seem that Fate would not allow him to forget his untimely end. Two skeletons were exhumed near Yekaterinburg in Russia, one of them that of a 13 year old boy. Jackson, against his better judgment, followed up on the case, feeling extremely strange. He knew those bones were his, or had once been his. Once the pictures were released, and Jackson saw his own rotting skeleton, it proved just a bit too much for him. Still, he liked to think of better times in his past, think of his family. Jackson wondered vaguely if he would ever see any of them again. He hoped most of all that he would meet his sister, Anastasia, in this life, as he had always been closest to her. But he knew the chances were slim. She could be much, much older and halfway across the world.
Jackson was shunted back to his present life rather suddenly. His old school had only gone up to 8th grade, and now that Jackson was entering high school, he needed a high school. The fuss that had occurred in choosing Jackson's elementary and middle school had occurred once again: the debate on which school had staff competent enough to keep up with adequate treatment for Jackson's hemophilia. His parents spent a long month arguing over it, before his father put in phone calls to his large family. An answer came from Jackson's uncle. Riverdale High was respectable boarding school in North Carolina. Jackson assumed his mother would never approve of sending him so far away. She worried just as much, if not more than his past mother, Tsarina Alexandra, had. To his surprise, however, his parents thought Riverdale a fine choice, especially since his cousin, Giovanni, attended there. Jackson could not believe his luck. Of all the relatives he could have been schooled with, Giovanni was not his first choice. Nor was he his last. Jackson had tried begging his parents to send him somewhere else, but for once his parents did not cave to his demands, both feeling Jackson would be much better off with family to look after him.
So Jackson arrived at Riverdale for his Freshman year, and did his absolute best to stay away from his cousin at all costs. He arrived still carrying the secret of who he really was, having never told anyone, despite a burning desire to let his closest friends know. His new school would have been typical of his old school, being excluded from sports and spending more time than he ever cared for in the nurse's office, were it not for an intriguing rumor that seemed to be flying around the school. Some sort of group called the RSOR. No one he met had any idea exactly what they were, but they certainly were a subject of much underground conversation. Jackson himself has become thoroughly interested in finding out just who or what they are, the mischief maker in him excited. If this group was such a secret, there was a good chance that trouble followed them, and trouble had always been a specialty of Jackson's.
I AM WHO I AM
[/font]WHO AM I?[/size][/center]
Name/Alias: Sterling
Other Characters: Nathan
Age: 22
Time Zone: Eastern
Post Sample:
(Lucius Malfoy. Have some! :D)
Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but instead caught Bellatrix acting rather peculiar and immediately lost his train of thought. Being a rather observant man, he was able to catch the very subtle nuances of human nature, and pick out imperfections and unusual habits. Too, having many secrets and having told many lies himself, he had over time become considerably adept at seeing through people. He watched her with mild interest for a moment, noticing her hand lingering in the pocket of her robes a bit too long, no doubt grasping to her wand. He knew Bellatrix was paranoid; it was quite obvious when their paths crossed as Death Eaters. It seemed to him that her views of people were two, they were either a threat and needed to be destroyed, or were in her way, and simply deserved the same end. It was a quality of Bellatrix that Lucius neither comprehended nor worked well with. He saw the world in areas of grey, and everyone had a purpose that could be manipulated and used for his own benefit.. It was a dirtier business, yes, but far less messy, and, in Lucius’ opinion, much more effective. He had only numerous occasions attempted to convince his fellow Death Eaters that his method was the only right one, and looked down with scorn on those who killed without purpose, openly and proud, and left a trail. Those, he thought, would be the ones that would see Azkaban soon, and he had no sympathy for them. Most Death Eaters were too hard headed and never listened to reason.
He felt a twinge of annoyance for her in that moment. Bellatrix had no need to be so vigilant around him, they were after all on the same side, and they had closer ties than most Death Eaters (though on many occasions he wished they did not) as they were in-laws. It seemed obvious, though, that she did not trust him, that, or she was more paranoid than he had ever expected, and she did not trust anyone. Still he was offended. He had proven himself to the Dark Lord time and time again, and he knew that soon enough he would be accepted into the inner circle. That, he thought, was what Bellatrix valued the most, loyalty. It was not so much that he desired Bellatrix’s approval than he desired her respect. He had always come to expect respect from everyone, after all he deserved it, coming from a family like the Malfoys, and the name was well known and revered throughout the wizarding world. Oftentimes because of that alone Lucius was used to being treated preferentially and with dignity, and he would not let any wayward, overzealous Death Eater damage that with her suspicions. Still, he held his tongue, thinking only of Narcissa and her feelings for her sister. It was a well placed move, as Bellatrix must have relinquished her wand, as she had taken her hand out of her pocket. Perhaps he would address the issue later, in a move private place, where he can more effectively interrogate Bellatrix, hopefully without the risk of getting himself cursed.
“I’m quite fine, Bellatrix, quite fine,” he said, regaining his composure, his fake smile and his sickeningly over-polite tone. He was not about to tell Bellatrix the truth, as he would have not considered himself completely ‘fine’ this entire week. But he felt that Bellatrix had no business knowing about his family problems, that, and she would not make the most engaging audience. It never mattered what he was talking about, so long as he could elicit a reaction, and he guessed Bellatrix the type to treat him with nonchalance, something he would find exceedingly irritating, something he wanted not to put up with from her. Though, he thought again, perhaps he could let her in on a small detail of what he had been doing. Even as he assumed she would show no interest in the fact that it was an anniversary of his and Narcissa’s coming up, she might be able to help him with a gift idea. She was Narcissa’s older sister, and admittedly, he expected Bellatrix to know more about his wife than he did. Girls, he guessed, and sisters especially knew each other on a deeper and different level. “You know, I was looking for a gift for Cissy. I found quite a stunning amulet, and I was wondering if she would like that. What do you think, Bellatrix? She is after all your sister.” Lucius half expected Bellatrix to snap at him, going on a tirade that he, as a Death Eater, should put the Dark Lord at the forefront of his life, rather than worrying about such petty things as a gift for his wife. Though if Bellatrix had any brains, she would bite her tongue and answer him.
Thinking for a moment, his mind strayed from Narcissa and the necklace, from missing work and his father’s rage, to a rather peculiar fact. Bellatrix was looked upon with considerable fear from many in the wizarding community, as she was one of those uncompromisingly stubborn Death Eaters, who saw their loyalty to the Dark Lord to be above themselves, their status, and that ever present risk of losing their freedom and being sent to Azkaban. Many of the Death Eaters that had chosen her path rarely emerged unless on a mission from the Dark Lord, or else came out in clever disguises. He thought Bellatrix rather bold to come out as she was, and unbelievably foolish. The Ministry was unrelenting in their search to capture and arrest Death Eaters. Those of his kind with any considerable intelligence knew they needed to keep a cover. Lucius prided himself on his own, he was so well concealed that he was able to hold down a job at the Ministry, surrounded by Aurors every day, and still have no suspicions be raised about him. That annoyance with Bellatrix arose in him again, and coupled with his general dislike of the woman; he thought he would be brash and ask her outright, “Anyway, is it really prudent for you to be out, Bellatrix? You know-” his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “the Aurors are becoming more relentless in searching for us, and I daresay you aren’t exactly, erm, quiet about your activities. What good would it do the Dark Lord if you were sent to Azkaban? The tone of the conversation changed completely, and the air hung heavy around them. Lucius stepped back from her, smiling satisfactorily. There was a great chance that he would later regret his words, but for now, he would revel in the fact that he had tried to stir her up.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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