Post by jayce adina jett on Jun 14, 2013 22:41:35 GMT
jayce adina jett
Hey, my name is... jayce adina jett
But most call me... jayce, jaycey, jay, j-j
If you want to, you can label me... heterosexual
I've been on this earth for... fifteen years
Which means I was born... 23rd march, 1998
I'm a... student
And only a... third year
My eyes are... bluey green
And my hair is... dark brown, almost black
One could say... that I have an innocent look about me. There's just something about how I am that screams fragile - almost like a porcelain doll. In a way, I am. My skin is pale, though I often have the slightest hint of rosy pink in my cheeks. My lips are also a dark pink.
My best feature, in my opinion, are my eyes. Often outlined with just a hint of eyeliner, they've always stood out. Their colour is a mix of blue and green, with maybe a hint of grey thrown in too. And then my hair is quite dark, a contrast against my pale skin, which falls in soft, loose curls just past my bust.
I stand at 5 foot, 3.5 inches. So, yes, I am quite small. It adds to my childlike appearance. I'm also slim too, weighing approximately 115lbs. Yes, I may be slightly underweight but I can't really help that. It's just how my body naturally is.
I don't have any distinguishing features as such.. unless you count scars as one? Which I suppose people do. So, I have a scar running along from my left hip down to my mid-thigh. That's probably my worst. However, I also have a few scars on my back and one on my face too. I can normally cover it with my hair but there's a scar just at my hairline on the right side of my face. It's extremely rare you will see that, though, due to it always being covered by my hair.
My wolf is... much like I am. She is small and delicate. Almost.. dainty. Her fur is reasonably long for a wolf and is jet black. Her eyes are the same colour as my own, a weird mixture of blue, green and grey. Luckily, due to the fur, my scars do not show in my wolf form. It's a reason why I often favour being a wolf.
I'm normally seen wearing... things that are comfortable and cover up my body. I will never, under any circumstances, wear something that is revealing. Then people look at you. And I'd much rather blend into the crowd than stand out from it. That's also the reason why I tend to wear cool, neutral colours. Nothing too bold or bright. I also have a small love for scarves? I don't know where it stemmed from. But.. they're beautiful. And, they help to cover you up more.
And I supposedly look like... India Eisley
All round, I'm... one of those people no one has really heard of. I like to keep to myself. I blend in with the crowd. I do not stand out. I do not fight for attention either. So, as a result, I'm one of those students that if you saw you would think 'since when did they go to the academy?' rather than 'oh, why's jayce all alone'. I can probably guarantee that no more than five students will know my name by the end of the year. I just don't do the whole socializing thing. I never have. I probably never will.
So yes, I may be socially awkward. Or socially retarded - whatever you want to call it really. I don't mind. Then again, you probably don't know who I am so why would your thoughts linger on my ability to hold a conversation with people? Though, that ability is lacking. If I don't give you one word answers, then I might stutter a little with a proper sentence. It's out of nerves mainly - I do not have a stutter.
You could say that I'm quite cold. Which is true. In some ways. There is absolutely no way that I am harsh, cruel or bitchy. No. That is just horrible. My dearest brother taught me to be better than that. I guess my coldness stems from the fact that I do not socialize. I like to be on my own, isolated. Just let me get through the rest of this school without any drama and I will be okay. I can't go as far as happy, but I will be content.
And that's another thing. I'm rather incapable of being, well, happy. I rarely smile. If I do, it's the smallest hint of a smile. My lips just tugging upwards a mere millimetre. I never laugh. Not really. Occassionally I will force a laugh out of my lips but only so I can blend in with my peers. So they won't notice me. But I don't think I've really, truly laughed for a few months now. Not since that day. That horrible, frightful day. But. I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll tell you about that tragic event later.
I'm a girl that has seen too many bad things in the world and it has affected me. It would affect you. I've changed because of how I was brought up. I look innocent and naïve because I exaggerate that side of me. If I hide my horrors, no one will look at me twice. I don't want their pity. That's not going to do anything. So yes, underneath my delicate face, there's a girl that is far from. I've learnt to harden. To try and cut myself away from my feelings. But I can't. Not really. Who can? They're always there, even how much we push them away. When the sun goes down, and you're lying in your bed at night there are no distractions. Your emotions surface. And I cry myself to sleep every single night.
I'm in love with... being alone, reading, painting, sewing, distractions from my thoughts, classical music, blending in with the crowd, my freedom, caramel ice-cream, coffee, being in wolf form, my darling brother - Theron - may he rest in peace.
Though I detest... people talking to me, my past, the fact I couldn't save my brother, being in crowds, my mother, the night, my scars - both mental and physical, alcohol, drugs, any reminder of that terrible day, heavy metal, pop music.
But my best assets are... I guess you could say I'm a good artist? I can paint quite well. I can also sew - often making my own clothing. My mental strength? Maybe?
However my worst... any reference to my family - no, my brother - and I will crumble, I cannot socialize, I cry myself to sleep every night.
And I dream of... to maybe, one day, help people that have suffered as I have done.
My life story... hasn't really been a walk in the park. I think I was most likely doomed from the day I was born. My mother, Filomene, one of the last of the Jett pack, gave birth to her first daughter. To which she named Jayce Adina. My father, Deacon, well, he didn't stay around long. And I don't blame him. Nor did Theron, my elder brother. I was barely a few weeks old when Deacon left. To go and find a mate that wasn't crazy. But how his departure just made her worse. She turned to drinking. Vast quantities of vodka, most likely. So, I was raised more by my darling brother.
He protected me. I never saw it at the time, but oh how he saved me. Countless times. Especially when she was at her worst. He'd lock me in my room as he took the blows. Returning, many times bleeding, but he still smiled. He hugged me. Told me that "Everything's okay Jaycey. We'll be okay. Just wait. When I can get the money, we'll be gone. Away from her. And you'll be safe. We'll have our house, won't we, Jaycey?" and I'd nod. I'd tell him all about our house. I'd bring out the pictures I'd drew of our house. I must admit, the more I thought about it, the more I drew it, the more the place turned into a castle. No. A palace. But Theron still nodded, telling me "That's right Jaycey, we'll live there one day".
He was my best friend, my Theron. On my seventh birthday, he had managed to earn some money busking on the street. He was so talented. And he took me into town. He was fifteen at the time. I had a real birthday. We went down to the little ice cream parlour and I remember being in heaven. Theron brought me the largest caramel sundae you can imagine. I didn't leave a drop of melted ice-cream. Though, that memory is tarnished. When I got home, she was in one of her moods again.
I was blind to it then, but I know now. My mother was not only an alcoholic, but she took drugs as well as the drink. She didn't have any money. She couldn't get her fix. Her eyes landed on the beaming child. Me. Theron noticed it instantly. He shifted as soon as she did. Her claws scraped across my back. Shredding my new dress that Theron had brought. He fought her off then. As I ran. Ran straight to my room. Hiding under my bed and listening to the snarls from below.
He came back. A jet black wolf. Whining softly as he lied beside the bed. I crawled out from under my bed and hugged him. He shifted again, then. Nursing the scratches across my back. I remember him apologizing. So much. He was sorry he let her touch me. That we would leave any day now. And I believed him. I believed the lie. Because he said it.
I was eight when I shifted for the first time. At the full moon. I remember the pain. Every bone in my body was breaking. And Theron helped me through. Helped me until I was a wolf. A small pup of a wolf, but a wolf no less. We spent that whole night together. We'd managed to sneak out the house and Theron taught me to hunt. I never wanted the night to end but soon he helped me shift back. Until the next full moon.
Life was hard. At ten, Theron had gotten a job and I had to spend time alone. Alone with her. But I was okay. I stayed in my room amongst the school books that my brother had brought me. She never came here. This was my castle. And when the clock struck four I waited for Theron to come home. And he did. Always with a new treat for me. Whether it was new school things, art supplies, clothing or food. He always brought me things home. Then he'd cook dinner for us. And her. Not that she ever ate it. Then he'd help me with my schoolwork because I didn't go to school. At nine o'clock I went to bed. I had a routine. It got me through the day. It got me through living in the same house as her.
For three years it worked. I was okay. Theron took the force of her rages. I hid in my room listening to the snarls and the occassional yelp. But at thirteen life changed. I was growing up. I remember being bold one day. I went downstairs to get myself a glass of water. And she was there. Going through the cupboards. Her eyes locked onto mine. I remember her screeching at me. Blaming me for it being gone. I do not know whether 'it' was the drugs or the alcohol, but she blamed me. And she was furious.
I tried to run. But she was quick. She threw a bottle at me. It smashed on the doorframe but a shard of glass flew at me. Cutting me across my hairline on the right side of my face. The metallic smell hung in the air. And then she shifted. Once again I felt claws against my back. So. I turned. My young wolf met hers. I would have died had Theron not come home. I remember seeing a large, black wolf jumping into the fight. Jaws around her neck as he threw her off. With one look, he told me to go. So I hid. In the same place I always did. Under my bed. When he returned, he looked so beaten. But he smiled at me. He tended my wounds at he hugged me. "I'm so sorry Jaycey, I'm sorry we're still here. We'll be gone soon. I promise you. We'll be gone soon" I believed his words again.
Two years later. And everything changed. I was fifteen, like I am now. It was early April. I went downstairs and she was waiting for me. I'd gotten rather good at sneaking around but this time I wasn't so lucky. She had her prey. And it was me.
She shifted. A outstretched claw catching my hip. It dragged down. Cutting deep into my skin. I screamed in pain as I shifted. Managing to fight her. She was winning. She was so strong. Even years of alcohol and drug abuse didn't destroy her ability to fight. I know she was once a war hero. An amazing fighter. But the wars had changed her. Made her crazy. And now she was trying to kill her own daughter. My saviour came every time. He fought her. But for once I stayed. I helped.
But then her teeth sunk into his neck. I heard the strangled yelp. He began to shift back. His eyes landed on me as he lay there. Blood pouring from his neck. I'd ran to him. Nuzzling him. Licking his wounds. No. This couldn't happen. My brother. My amazing, wonderful brother. He choked. His eyes looking at me. It must have taken so much effort but he lifted an arm. His hand softly brushing my fur. Then he spoke. Whispered words. "Run. Jaycey. Run" and then I watched as the life left him. I howled. But I listened. I ran.
I left that house. Before she could touch me. I ran. I left that house and all the memories that came with it. Except those with Theron. Never would I forget him. I darted into the forest and once sure I was safe I shifted. Tears poured from my eyes as I dropped to the ground. Curling up into the fetal position and crying. Crying until I had no tears left. Until my head pounded. Until my throat was raw. And still then I cried. Cried even when there were no tears. I'd been unable to save him. I'd failed. For all those years he had protected me - and I couldn't return the favour.
For the next two months I was on the move. Only rarely in human form. I hunted for food. Staying a wolf seemed easier. But. I still mourned him every single day. Until recently. When I realised. Theron would hate me to live my life like this. I found myself wandering to a town called Northvale. I found the Academy so I enrolled myself. I'll finally go to school. Get myself an education. It's what he would have wanted.
I was born to... Deacon St. James and Filomene Jett
And also live with... Theron Jett, may he rest in peace.
My ooc name is... Spitze[/color][/blockquote]
And I've been roleplaying... four years
The Secret Word is... Halloween
