Post by Jocelyn R. Chernyy on Nov 26, 2012 9:42:34 GMT 1
Playby: Jennifer Lawrence
Name: Jocelyn Roza Chernyy
Age: 368 (Born 1702 A.D.) / 26
Sex: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, prefers Males
Species: Vampire
Physical Description: Standing at a mere 5'7", Jocelyn isn't one known for a physically staggering presence. Like many of her species, she has pale skin of perfection. Her eyes are a misty sort of green, soft and alluring when you're on her good side. She has a deceptively narrow waist and hourglass figure from several years of corsetry and waist training, though she doesn't wear that frippery now. She has an oval face with high cheekbones and pouting lips. Most people would assume she's younger than she looks. All part of the plan, with Jocelyn. Even her daily vestments seem simple and soft. She dresses in flowing fabrics, muted and earthy colors that enhance the natural color of her skin tone.
Attitude: Jocelyn is most likely to be seen as a fun loving woman. She's gentle, patient and mostly kind. Or is she? No, for Jocelyn, being nice is a game. Being the friendly one isn't who she really is, she's a snake and a deadly predator. Fueled by power and control. So, she'll bow courteously and listen to most favors. Some she'll redeem, promising the person of interest that she'll be back to collect her payment. Nothing comes free with Jocelyn, though her calm smile and soft eyes suggest otherwise. Anger isn't a rare emotion with this woman, but it is rarely shown with a raised voice and bone breaking strength. Jocelyn prefers to exact her wrath out in a more courtly manner, from the inside out. It's almost as if 'nice' Jocelyn and 'vengeful' Jocelyn are different faces of the same coin.
Abilities: She quite strong, being being just over 350 years old, although she chooses not to use such tactics. She has many abilities developed by her species, such as: inhuman speed, strength and the dexterity to climb walls. Jocelyn seems quite ordinary for a vampire in that regard. Nothing has developed so far.
Weaknesses: Sunlight, aversion to being stabbed with either a wooden or silver stake and zombies /slags are not for hugging or nibbling. She's fierce about her family, the human bits long gone and dead but not her personal maker. For him, her 'father', Jocelyn would do anything. She can never have children. Ever. It's a sore subject she will absolutely react violently to. Her blood is tainted and will not heal another (see History). This also means that she can never create vampires and become a maker herself.
History: Jocelyn was born in Russia, 1702, in a city that would soon become the new Russian capital: St. Petersburg. She was the only child of Alexei Petr Chernesk, Chamberlain in the Tzar's court as her family had been for many years. She was raised as befitting a lady but just before her 15th birthday, her family was cast down from their courtly appointment. She was confused, suddenly impoverished and excommunicated from the church in a country dedicated to God and his service. Her family was treated as if they had the plague.
Jocelyn was damaged goods now, and unfit to marry. Vain, angry and cold was a vicious cocktail for a youth who had once tasted power so sweet. Upon the road south, into Poland, they happened upon a learned man. He claimed to be a physician and took a liking to Jocelyn's quick wit. Jocelyn immediately liked him for his intelligence and handsome face, bewitched by his angelic beauty. She ran away to be with the physician, to learn much from him. Little did she know that her handsome physician was no angel, but a vicious killer with a taste of blood.
He began to tell her strange stories about his youth that she didn't quite understand, stories of a sickness that swept across the land. She didn't care much for these stories at the time, but what she did care about is the physician's place of interest. He was headed for Russia to be appointed as a caretaker for the royal family and was eager to have a maid to help in the service. Upon the road, Master Mannoli (as he called himself), raised Jocelyn as his own. Seeking companionship not as man and woman, but as family.
This should have seemed strange, but Jocelyn seemed hazy and happy. She was under a compulsion of a vampire, although a weak strain. The Master helped her connect dots of her family's fall and anger bubbled up inside of her. They were together for a few years before the Master settled into his new royal home and Jocelyn played the part of sweet, innocent nursemaid. They hatched a plan to make the church fall from the inside out, starting with the Tzar who ripped away her future.
The new year had just dawned when Jocelyn came down with smallpox. The Master seemed unconcerned, telling her that he would heal her. Jocelyn, as directed, exposed the young Tzar, Pyotr II to the sickness, letting him become a walking time bomb. As Jocelyn lay dying in the Master's arms, he whispered sweetly to her. "Ask me to save you, Rosie. Beg me if you need!"
He bit her. She was reborn.
Time passed quickly for the pair, stuck for eternity in their young bodies with devil may care grins. They were in Italy, not 40 years after the fall of the Romanov line and the rise of the revolution, when Jocelyn was caught and staked. The wood used was of a sacred yew, blessed by a witch and bound in blood. Those of the Holy Order sought to bury her far beneath a tree and let her sleep as if dead. They were fools and idiots not to behead and burn her, instead thinking that a few worlds to God would keep her in the ground. As all things fade, so did that blessed yew branch, and Jocelyn was set free from her grave.
Only, she was not as lucky as she thought. Her blood had been tainted by the witchcraft. Never would she know the love between Maker and Made. Never would she have a child of her own. Her spirit gnashed it's teeth in rage and she became broken. She passed her time until the fall of the world sacrificing ancestral lines of the Holy Order that once put her in the ground.
Just before the apocalypse, Jocelyn had been spending her time in the city of Prague. Days were spent in a lavish home she had purchased and night were filled with hazy eyed models and sweet, red blood. It was a wonderful vacation from slaying pretentious religious figures. When the virus swept over the air and humanity fell to it's knees; Jocelyn, cozy in her dark tomb of stone and iron, grinned. The time of vampires was on the horizon and she wasn't about to miss any of that. Jocelyn acted as a savior to a few living humans, those who wandered came to her for help in survival. Her large house became ground zero in Prague and she taught the senseless humans how to defend themselves from the zombie uprising. For their lengthy saving, Jocelyn took a humble and meager sacrifice. Rations were few and far between. Sometimes she was not at the top of her game, but she handed over Prague to a small council, confident they would plan for the future as she did. Now it was back to seeing the world. America sure looked exciting.
Code Words: CORRECT
RP Sample:
"Jocelyn, step forward." A masculine voice echoed through the marble room, lending a soft edge to a voice of steel.
The woman, a fair skinned blond with pouting lips and bright green eyes, stepped forward without hesitation and bowed as low as her gown would allow. Her hair was piled atop her head, impossibly curled and pinned into a picture of perfection. Her gown cut low against her bosom, just above her rose colored nipples, and lay tied against her tiny waist. Copious amounts of lace and brocade had been sewn and fashioned together to make a gown such as this with it's bell shape and tulle skeleton underneath. The room smelled of a hot house. Perfume rose from every form, dancing just before her nose to blot out the stink of unwashed bodies. As if these people needed that.
Jocelyn, let a smirk flit to her features as her eyes darted up to the man who so sternly called her name. Her eyes were the most colored in the room, almost the color of pure emeralds. It felt to strange to be so alive after being so freshly dead. "Jocelyn,"she heard her name again, still from the same pair of shapely lips. Lips to make love to.
Jocelyn bat her eyes coquettishly in reply, "Master."
Her maker chuckled, folding an arm at his waist to accept her slender wrist. She took the arm happily, always pleased to be near him when ever possible. Tucked together, they walked down the isle, eyes on the pair with envy. "They are jealous of you, Rosie. Can you not feel their heated gaze?"
Jocelyn gave a small shake to her head, careful not to disturb her hair with the movement. "I am not as old as you, Master. Is that gift something I am to expect."
He grinned, another lusty laugh bubbled from his throat. "I am not to say, but that is not a gift I possess. You are to be honored, tonight. After being so freshly turned, is it not often this happens."
"The only honor I wish to have is from you, Master." Jocelyn meant every world, but her maker just pat her hand, still wrapped in the crook of his arm.
"Tonight will be a grand soiree." He smiled, his golden eyes facing straight ahead.
Note: Calling her by a nickname, unless you are a beloved of her heart, could lead to injury. Be cautious!
