Post by JANE MAGDALENA VOLTURI on Mar 6, 2013 17:07:13 GMT -8
JANE magdalena VOLTURI
in the mean mean time i'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
Full Name :: jane magdalena volturi.
Nicknames :: affectionately dubbed "witch" and other variations by the romanians; otherwise she doesn't heed to any nicknames.
Date of Birth :: sometime before 800 A.D.
Physical Age :: a vague area between thirteen and sixteen.
Mental Age :: nearly over thousand years old.
Species :: vampire.
Ability’s :: focused well enough, jane can cause her victim the illusion of incredible physical pain. you won't actually be suffering, of course, but - well, the mental influence she has can be quite crippling.
Height :: four foot, eight inches.
Weight ::[/i] one hundred and six pounds.
Hair ::[/i] blonde.
Eyes ::[/i] crimson.
Play by ::[/i] saoirse ronan.
Likes ::
• orchestral music (particularly the sarabande by handel)
• control
• games (puzzles, mostly)
• witty conversation
• her twin, alec
• revenge
• her gift, and exerting it
• aro
• the thrill of the kill
• causing pain
Dislikes ::
• losing anything
• being ignored
• when she appears as anything less than exceptional
• fire
• being treated like a child
• any vegetarian vampires
• those who don't hold the best interests of the volturi at heart
• having to wait for something
• the volturi's (or hers, as the case may be) authority being questioned
• losing the upperhand
Strengths ::
• the ability to give almost anyone the illusion of excruciating pain
• quick wit/resourceful
Weaknesses ::
• impatient
• quick to anger
Habits/Quirks ::
• pacing
• overanalyzing
Fears ::
• being burned alive
• losing the attention of the few people she cares about
Secrets ::
• more often than not, she finds she's sick of being in the body of, basically, a child
• sometimes, she has a lingering want for the mortal life she had forcibly left behind, though she would never say it aloud
Personality ::
it's no secret that jane is an exceptionally sadistic vampire. let's face it; when you're gifted with an ability such as hers, and used to wield as she does, it's sort of hard not to be. she certainly gleans enjoyment from using it against others; she likes the sense of control and command she gets, especially when she can so aptly elicit fear into others. it's long since been decided, too, that jane is a terribly jealous girl; she's only really close to two people in her life - aro and her twin, alec - so when their attentions are diverted elsewhere, she quickly grows impatient and irritable.
that's the problem with jane. she's used to being groomed and praised because of her abilities almost all her life, and now that those others have entered the picture, she has this incessant need to prove herself to be better. she thoroughly enjoys the respect and fear she can draw from others with her abilities; even so, around aro or alec, she is a different girl all together - happy, even, one might dare to say.
through the years, it's become apparent to herself that she is a cynical girl. her apathy and general disregard for the human race is not something that is unfounded; she is simply better than them, she knows, and has started to develop a more "realistic" (and brutal) opinion of the world around her. this flippant disagreement is beginning to swiftly change into a bit of disgust for humans as a whole.
jane is a creature of habit, and she is habitually caught up in making sure people understand that she may be in the body of a young girl, but she is neither weak or dumb. she is particularly good at asserting her aggressive behavior, cutting with a rolling of her eyes and meticulously chosen words, and more often than not relies on her violent temper to remind people that she is strong.
Mother ::[/i] an anglo-saxon she doesn't recall anymore.
Father ::[/i] a frankish soldier, one whose name - amric - she remembers only because alec took his name as his own.
Siblings ::[/i] alec.
Other important people ::[/i] the volturi, as a whole, and aro in particular.
History ::[/i]
over the years, jane has notice a pattern in man kind - a pattern that very clearly took place in her own life; man fears what he can't understand. and, unfortunately, the story of jane's short-lived mortal life is one of these cases precisely. she was a child, no less - still a child, one might argue, though her mental standing is far greater - and the memories are beginning to blur and fringe around the edges. but she does remember this:
she remembers that her mother was beautiful, in that exceptionally classic way. she remembers that her father was strong and dark, like alec; she knows that there were times when the children in the village - even the adults - would be exceptionally cruel or rude to them, and she would get this great, overwhelming anger in her. like a moth to the flame, lady fate brought her hand down on those people for a quick and often times painful shaming.
it was exactly this coincidence, as it would have been called by some, that brought the fever of witches to her village. people were, perhaps, already on the look out - witch fever spread fast and violently - but once they realized bad things happened to the eerie twins, an idea struck. the fever took root deep in their hearts. and alec and jane were put up on the stake to burn.
things become a little fuzzy here for jane, in the same way that the memories of her far earlier life are. she knows that, in contrast to her brother alec, her anger had not been silent. she had thrashed and writhed. she had hated - and she still hated - those villagers for lighting her on fire and for her parents standing aside and watching. hadn't they loved her? hadn't they cared for her? she was the flesh and blood - and her flesh was going to melt away, and they were going to let it.
excruciating pain had not yet been experienced by young jane, however, until aro came to stop the execution. in turn, he had to slaughter the villagers - but it was a small price to pay for the treasures she and her brother turned out to be. she remembers very acutely the agonizing pain of being turned - but as of now, it is a memory that she no longer bothers to dwell upon.
Your name ::[/i] lisette!
Age ::[/i] seventeen c:
Experience ::[/i] six+ years !
Have you read the rules ::[/i] musical !
Role Play Sample ::[/i]
she could taste the tension in the air, a tangible pollution clouding before her eyes, hanging around her head. her skin itched. her fingers lifted, drawing perfectly manicured nails across the smooth plane of her cheek; dark, maroon eyes flickered across the expanse of verdant greens once more. he was out there, of course - but he was still, unmoving, a heartless monument to a great army that had once been. she smiled wanly, softly at the thought, the expression lifting the corners of her mouth and shifting the ivory-to-porcelain skin across angular cheekbones. he was the last half of a long-standing army that had been demolished, largely by her hand.
jane wasn't sure precisely when she'd begun taking enjoyment from the pain of others. it had been long ago, perhaps even before she'd been tied to the stake as a child. she'd always had a bit of a vindictive side to her, she thought mildly as she drew her nails from her cheek to her throat, past the dark velvet of her volturi cloak down to her collarbone. it was like tiny little fluttering things against her skin, this itch for vengeance, battering against her rib cage until she obliged to the want.
the attempted burning had been particularly unpleasant, of course. jane did not try to think very much on it; the romanian's slanderous throw-about of witch sent what little blood was in her veins boiling, the creatures beating against her hollow bones in an attempt to rile her into seeking out his hidden position. why, what she wouldn't have done to fix her gaze on him, entrance him for just long enough before she watched his gaze swamp with agony.
"counting down," the soprano drawled, her voice light, soft, not in the least bit giving away to the fact that she would have happily ripped his head from his shoulders at that slick comment. he was positively oily. it made her skin crawl unpleasantly. "there is, after all, only two of you left. aro keeps speaking lightly of seeking you out, worried you're sore after what we did, and for a while, i was concerned you would charge our gates. and then i thought-" she paused, that faint smile returning to her lips, smugness vibrating in her voice like musical hum. "i thought, them and what army?"
the lightest step forward. she dropped her hand from her collarbone, smoothing out the dark cloak around her tiny, willowy form. she looked, in all aspects, positively fragile; young, with a sweet, wide face, soft almond eyes, thick lashes. it was unfortunate, then, that her eyes were such a cruel and unforgiving shade of red, wasn't it? that the girlish lips slipped upward in smiles meant only to injure. she did, after all, do her best battles when she wounded the heart.
"there is always something to learn," jane began casually, her voice as flippant as if she were discussing the morning paper. "it seems that is one of the greatest faults of our kind. overestimating their own knowledge." the quietest step forward, barely a movement, her gaze preening the branches and leaves to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, to figure out which one it was. there was only one of them - she would have been able to tell if there were more. she would have been gone if there was. there wasn't any way she would have made it out if there were multiple vampires; crippling, agonizing mental pain could only go so far on the field of battle, especially when she didn't have her twin with her.
god, but it was empty beside her.
"it was rude of me to poke at your recent losses," the blonde conceded, taking another silent step, though she didn't sound in the least apologetic. "i merely got the impression we were throwing around careless words, hm?"
