Post by jackie damiano piazza on Jun 5, 2013 16:43:02 GMT
Jackie Damiano Piazza
Hey, my name is... Jackie Damiano Piazza
But most call me... Jackie. No nicknames for me.
If you want to, you can label me... pansexual
I've been on this earth for... one hundred and fifty-seven years
Which means I was born... 31st October, 1856
I'm a... Local
And only a... Bartender at the Blood Inn
My eyes are... hazel
And my hair is... jet black
One could say... I look like an overgrown teenager. I have quite a few piercings (one on my lip, my nose and large studs stretching my earlobes) and my tattoos are sleeved with the ink of many tattoos, even my knuckles which bare 'HALLOWEEN' after my birthdate. I'm not the tallest man out there, standing at puny five-eight, but I make up for that with my stocky physique. All muscle, baby.
I'm normally seen wearing... clothes you'd probably see on one of today's teenage rockers. Ripped jeans, pyramid studded belts, chains, ragged and scuffed converse or skater shoes, some t-shirt blaring the name of a random band the kids listen to nowadays and a beanie. It's easier to blend in and find food if you don't stick out like a well-dressed and prudish sore thumb.
And I supposedly look like... Frank Iero. That guy from My Chemical Romance.
All round, I'm... a cold person who is used to things going my way. I might not be as old as most vampires but I've still experienced a great deal. As the years have gone by, I've found my emotions becoming more and more... dulled in a way. Things that held great appeal to me in the past have lost it and, I guess, certain things just don't affect me as quite as much as they used to. I wouldn't say I'm emotionless as such. I'm just different. For example, in the way I amuse myself; I find fun in things some could find twisted, grotesque and even sadistic.
I live in a way that suggests that I'm going to burn out soon, especially with all these laws floating about. I can't find it in myself to employ some sort of self-restraint to curb my unusual desires and not even the threat of being caught by the Council seems to have any effect. I'm stubborn, arrogant, egoistical and reckless. But aren't we all going to die some day anyway?
I'm in love with... quiet, the dark, reading, watercolour painting, my job, blood, being in control, reptiles, caffiene, wine, classical music, playing violin, cello, piano and harp, toying about with fairies, drinking and smoking.
Though I detest... noise, bright lights, television, werewolves, boreai, sirens, sorcerers, getting up at the crack of dawn, people that put up too much of a struggle, getting annoyed, most things.
But my best assets are... my creativity and determination.
However my worst... my recklessness and bloodlust.
And I dream of... doing whatever I want, whenever I want.
My life story... starts with me born to vampires. My family dabbled around in the underworld and we grew rich from it. Name a crime, at least one of my family members has done it. When I was a kid, I helped out some to grow accustomed to the business. My dad was that sort of guy that drove around collecting debts, he had the muscles and he had the fangs. He was a scary hunk of vampire that gave the ultimatum: pay up or become lunch. It worked most of the time. Sometimes I even got a bite or two on good weeks.
Then, one day, I had my first bite of fairy. It was heaven on my tongue. The taste still lingers in my mouth - there is no going back.
I began to work my way up the ranks. I wasn't a muscle man like my dad. I was more of a thinker, a strategist if you wish. But that scene never really was for me, no matter how well I excelled in it. I have seen enough death to numb me for my long, long lifetime. One thing though that brings me joy, hard as it is to believe, are fairies. They've always been there for me, even in that harsh war we suffered not so long ago. Nothing brings me quite as much joy as adding another to my collection... piecing together one of their delicate skeletons can keep me entertained for hours. I loathe that peace treaty. We, the vampires, were destined to be the victors and rule over the other, inferior races. Whoever had this "brilliant" idea was an idiot and deserves to be staked.
I was born to... Allegra Gilda Piazza and Damiano Adolfo Piazza
Not to mention... a black cat called Nipper.
My ooc name is... Jen![/color][/blockquote]
And I've been roleplaying... 2 years.
The Secret Word is... PASSWORD ACCEPTED
Here's a little sample...God, these two were such fucking liars. Alex had planned to meet up with his friends here in the faerie common room. And all that other kid was doing was trying to cover their own arses. And I'm not an idiot either. Something Alex had said or done had set the boy off. I swore I'd heard him whisper something even if I hadn't been able to make anything out. Plus he looked shit-scared. Stupid, little bitch.
And that other kid was being a little bitch too. There was only so much I could shrug or laugh off. I smiled, saccharine sweet, and took the bottle out of the youngster's hands. He'd pay for that horrid, snarky attitude he was having with me.
And then, like some divine intervention, another sweet faerie smell wafted into the room. But this one, I don't know, it was heavier. It had something to it, a certain tang, which Alex didn't have despite there being noticeable similarities in their scents. Still grasping the bottle, I turned around in my seat to see... Alejo's niece or whatever. Alex's cousin. The knocked up one. That explained how they smelt similar yet so different at the same time. This was perfect.
"Oh, hello." I said, the smile I donned hinting that I was honestly pleased to see her. I got up off the sofa and made my way over to her, taking that precious whisky bottle with me. It was going to provide useful any moment now. There's a reason why you don't let your drinks leave your sight around strangers or untrustworthy people. "I remember youuu. Come. Have a seat."
So. Somewhere between the time I left that sofa and had an arm ushering the girl to sit down on the couch we were all occupying... I'd slipped a little something in that bottle. Nothing too bad. Just a little rohypnol. I brought the drink to my lips, pressed the opening against them and took, what looked like, a healthy swallow. But I took care that not a drop passed my lips. I went to hand it to Bree but laughed and handed it over to the two boys inside. "Silly me... I forget that you're expecting. Maybe next time."
