THE CLOCK STRUCK TWELVE
WHERE WE EITHER LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER OR DIE OF HORRIBLE CURSES
Feb. Spotlight Thread
He could draw on Earth's ability to heal and regenerate plants, to thrive in harsh conditions, and that was one of the reasons he was being hunted. That and the ancient sword or two he had stolen from Anghus. Dick deserved it.
ATTICUS O'SULLIVAN && DELTA SONG
Persephone Newton doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
APP Profile Image: https://i.imgur.com/Cw5VCI2.png
APP Author Alias: Stoker
APP Author's Age: 32
APP Author's Timezone: Atlantic
APP Author's Gender: Female
APP Character Name: Persephone Anais Newton
APP Character's Age: 29
APP Character's Birthday: March 5th, 1987
APP Character's Species: Human
APP Character's Group: 1st Kingdom
APP Character's Face Claim: Rosario Dawson
APP Character: Percy Newton
APP Character's Story: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue
APP Character Quote: What did you do?
APP Character's History: My father Anthony was the second born to a wealthy, aristocratic family in Zezolla. One of those old, incredibly stuck in their ways, backward minded, and vastly religious and judgemental kinds. I always assumed it was because of this that my sweet, kind hearted father offered to voyage with the Newton trade ships, so that he could escape his family. Escape he did, to all the other parts of our great world and that was how my very white father met my not so white mother. A lovely tanned goddess – as he saw her – with dark eyes and midnight tresses. He fell in love automatically, writing many an ode to her on his violin. I was born to them out there on the waters, but my birth cost my mother her life. With a newborn on his arm he saw no other option but to return home to his family in Zezolla.
He brought me home to his brother Thomas and his wife Beatrice who both thought I was some form of mongrel I am still convinced of to this day. But nonetheless they welcomed me into their family, helped my father find a proper wet nurse and aided him with my overall care. When I was five my father fell severely ill and there wasn’t anything that anyone could do, and apparently little mixed race outcast children weren’t awarded a fairy godmother. My father passed away, leaving me only his violin as the last connection to him.
My Uncle and Aunt weren’t expecting to become my guardians, and yet they took on the responsibility, and they loved me in their way raising me mostly as their own. I was given tutors and lessons just as any other girl in the surrounding area, even if I was never entirely a lady of the house. I was given musical training as well, learning to play my father’s violin and in many ways remaining tied to him through it. Though my life was not grand, it was not bad either.
There was one incredibly bright spot in my childhood, Henrietta Montague... Monty. She was my next door neighbour and a year younger than me, not that it mattered to either of us. I willingly tagged along to wherever her little blonde head lead me, always happy to be in the place that Monty was. She made me feel secure in myself and our friendship, made me feel right, and at home. She was home. The two of us wound up in scads of trouble together, Monty never able to control herself and always leading us into the foray of misconduct, but I always let her do it. Always went where she lead and did what she asked, anything to see her smile and be a part of that bright sunshine.
I don’t really know when it became a definite knowledge in my person – perhaps it was so bone I always knew – but I became painfully aware of my love for Monty in the midst of her first scandal with Rachel Peel. The two of them had been caught kissing in some dark corner at a ball. Rachel accused Monty of attacking her, which I knew just wasn’t true. Everyone believed Rachel though, including Monty’s father, and even though she never really said anything I knew that their already rough relationship became more strained and my dearest friend began to hate herself a little more.
I’d been hurt at the knowledge that Monty would choose someone else to be the girl she kissed, but as a young teen was hopeful that now that I wasn’t alone in my differentness that Monty would look my way. It never happened, but I stood by her side anyway. During a teen group hang I made sure to accidentally connect Rachel in the face with my riding crop, leaving her lip split and a tooth loose. You didn’t hurt Monty, especially when I was around.
That was a turning point for Monty, and like the faithful friend I was, I let her lead me into even more dire debacles, severely unladylike places of entertainment, drunken escapades, the whole nine yards. And each time I would have to watch her disappear with some new man or woman, watch as they tasted what I yearned for, bite my lip in agony as they tarnished and undervalued what I held most dear. Despite the pain, despite the ever growing wound in my heart I remained there, letting her drag me along each time because I couldn’t allow anything to happen to her. Didn’t trust Monty to not wind up dead in a gutter or utterly destroyed by some undeserving scoundrel. So I went to protect her, as best as I could. And in truth... even the dregs of her attention, the tender touches, the sweet kisses to my cheeks.... they were what kept me going, kept me hoping that someday... SOMEDAY... I would be the one.
We aged, we grew, and Monty was sent away to a polished private school while remained in our home town. It was pure agony to be apart, to have taken from me the only true light that I had. I was taken care of by my family, but their estates would never be ‘mine’, not the strange mixed race niece from some strange land who didn’t quite look the part of their white standard. But I was okay with that part, didn’t necessarily want it, I just wanted to be allowed to be happy, to have my own space somewhere, anywhere. I threw myself into my music, learning my violin until I could play it in my sleep, pouring my emotions and longings into my music. I began to play around the countryside and in the city, finding places where they would pay me a fair coin for my efforts.
All the while living for the letters that would come my way from Monty, bittersweet – filled with lines and lines of her misery without me but a poetry book worth of odes to a beautiful girl she had met there at school.
It would seem that the fates held something else in store for me. When I turned twenty-six I felt the world shift beneath me as an episode of illness struck me, taking me down to the floor while I began to shake uncontrollably, my body seeming possessed as I shook and trembled and eventually blacked out before awaking exhausted and staring into the faces of my petrified aunt and uncle. My high religious aunt signed across herself and cried for a priest, a doctor and a Shadowhunter to be called for. I was sent away to my room. The doctor found that I was weakened and needing of sleep and rest, but could find no sign of what had caused my episode. The Shadowhunter found no sign of demonic possession. The priest was not so sure.
In the three years that have passed I have been struck down by the episodes on more than one occasion. My aunt and uncle have put me through every test imaginable. Bloodletting, fasting, detox, magi tinctures, acupuncture, herbs, exorcism..... nothing has worked and they are at their last wits with me. My aunt can’t even bare to be in the same room as me when I am struck down and has a difficult time meeting my eye on any given day. I’m fairly certain she believes me possessed by some demon or ghost. They have come to a decision, my aunt and uncle, that I am to be allowed one last foray into the world – joining Monty on her tour of the kingdoms – and then I will be sent to a hospital deep in the mountains. An asylum in all truth. A place where I will not be allowed to harm anyone or ‘myself’ or release whatever demon is inside me out into the world.
All I want is to flee. To go off into some small country town and play my violin for coin and enjoy the fire at night inside a small, quaint cottage. If only Monty would come with me.... then she could help me endure this. But she doesn’t know, she can’t know for fear of how she will change when around me. So I will fill the next year with all the glories the world can offer, soak up everything I can, and keep it close to my heart as they lock me away.
APP Sample Post: No Information
Mini profile gif: https://i.imgur.com/JROeHEA.gif
Mini Profile Shipper link: No Information
Wanted Ad: No Information
APP Character Occupation: Violinist
Joined: 15-September 17
Last Seen: May 27 2018, 02:04 PM
Local Time: Jun 18 2018, 05:01 PM
10 posts (0 per day)
( 0.06% of total forum posts )
Message: Click here
Email: Click Here
No comments posted.