ROUSSEAU, amelie quincey

[AMELIE ROUSSEAU]

Resident File Number 1942
AMELIE ROUSSEAU

[/color]
-----------------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------



NAME: Amelie Quincey Rousseau
NICKNAMES: She prefers no nicknames. Her desires are frequently disregarded, however. Names such as "Duchess of Burgundy," "Angel," and even her middle name, "Quincey," have haunted her throughout the ages. The most recent: Mel.
AGE: 25
BIRTH DATE: March 21st, 1985
SEX: Female, you twit
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual, Kinsey 2

PROBLEMS:
Lady Rousseau has a curious affinity for blood and all things deemed "antique..." She is never seen near windows; in fact, her classroom itself has none, nor does the hallway leading to the English wing... hm. It is all just a suspicion, though. Everyone knows vampires don't exist.







PERSONALITY:
To call her slightly irritable would be an understatement. In truth, the Lady Countess of Burgundy has limited patience with others, especially humans. The only living things she willingly chooses to socialize with are her four feline companions, Tobias, Jacquelyn, Adèle, and Antoinette... and books. She is a worshipper of literature. For the past two hundred years, she has spent the majority of it locked away, pouring through books. Why is this, you may inquire? She loathes all human life, alive or dead. She is a pessimistic soul and has come to believe that all men and women are the same, inside and out. No human is to be trusted and none are to be pitied. And she will not pity.

Along with being impatient and negative, our Lady is cold and cruel to an extent. Her pretty face is a wonderful cover-up for what truly lingers beneath the surface. Pray, when you meet her, keep your weaknesses covered. Should she discover them, she is not afraid to leap on them. Remorse is something she has long since forgotten. She has forgotten forgiveness, she has forgotten sorrow... now there is only hate and emptiness in the shell of what was once a thoroughly beautiful young woman. Do not play her games; you will lose.





[/center]

LIKES:

• Her four precious "children"
  
• More specifically, cats
  
• Mice
  
• O+
  
• Serene, quiet areas, such as her office or her home
  
• Organization
  
• Dances, surprisingly
  
• "Vintage" clothing
  
• Winter
  
• Red wine
  
• All things white or black

DISLIKES:

• Summer
  
• Bright lights
  
• Photographs, especially landscapes
  
• Most people, males in particular
  
• Bright, fluorescent colors
  
• "Gender-confused" children
  
• Canines, of all shapes, sizes, and ages
  
• Dracula
  
• Any teacher of history

FEARS:

• One of her children dying
  
• Pyrophobic

HAIR COLOR: Platinum blond
EYE COLOR: Gray; can sometimes be confused for a very light blue
HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 5'3", around 110 pounds; height varies, as she's very fond of heels
STYLE:
Her hair.. her hair of near-white has attracted the attention of many a man throughout the course of her 'life.' Forever straight, never to be treated, it falls to the small of her back with that rare snowy grace that is endowed on such a platinum tint of hair. To compliment her hair, the Countess boasts a flawless complexion that is both pale and desirable... or one should suppose it is, as much attention the girl receives just from her skin. All over, she is washed with a sort of misleading.... light, is how it has been described by a few. Even her eyes, the supposed windows to her soul, are light in tint. Their hue of gray mocks that of silver; her irises have taken silver and made it ill. She is not a large creature; her stance comes to that of a modest five-three. Even the classification of her body is lacking in size. Lithe is what they call it. Quite the feast for any wandering person's eye, yes.

Though the ages have changed, it is a hideous thing to say that our Lady has changed with them. Although a touch of modern clothes taint her wardrobe, the lady may be seen walking about elegantly at night in her custom-made Renaissance-era dresses. Ballroom gowns are not out of touch either, though are . She can regularly be seen donning both these old-fashioned dresses -- but do not think her completely devoid of taste for the recent twist in human tastes. Occasionally the girl will drop her conservationism to wear a skirt... but do not get your hopes up. Brought up in a society where conservative was the word, one cannot expect her to change her manner of dress. On the topic of her choice of color in her clothes, there hardly is any. Simple black and white will suffice, though this, too, she has been known to break on occasion. Special occasions, whether it be a party she was particularly excited for or such an occasion where she has planned something to be done. That is all there is to be said.
LOOK ALIKE: Jacqueline Elsbeth







FATHER: unknown
MOTHER: unknown
SIBLINGS: unknown

HISTORY

There is no set recorded history for the one known as Amelie Quincey Rousseau. What is known is that she was not born into nobility. Even in the early ages, especially in the early ages, there were unwed mothers and bastards. Our Lady is such a one.. but she was found a home, a home which happened to be that of an cathedral. Religious fools as they were in those days and never having seen a child with purest of white hair, the Bishop of Chateauroux took her in. She was then soon handed over to the most deserving of families... a house of noble standing. It was there she lived until she reached the age, rather, the required age of marriage. That is where the true story begins.

She did not know the man she was pledged to be married to. It was a common deal in the 15^th century. Amelie was told she was to be wed and that was the end of it. She was sent off, far away, to the realm of the Count of Burgundy. This she did not know, among many things, and she arrived there the day of their wedding, cold, scared, and filled with innocence. The same cannot be said after the wedding.

The Count of Burgundy was a large man, in more ways than what are appropriate to mention, and he was nearly thirty years her senior. But still, nothing was known behind closed doors, and there were quite a lot of closed doors in his manor, especially during the day. Upon her arrival (which just happened to be just after sunrise), a womanservant led her from the carriage to a room. She was told to wait for her new husband, wait there until he came for her. Then they would be married. And in that same room she sat, for hours. She was allowed to do nothing while she waited, nothing save sit, sit and be patient like the good wife she was expected to be. To this day, our Lady could describe every last detail in the room. It comes as no surprise: she sat in that nameless room for nearly fourteen hours. No food, no water.. nothing but the order to sit and be patient and do what was expected of her... Oh, but dear, there was so much more that was expected of her than that.

Weddings in those days were quick and to the point. After the horrendous torture of being set in a room, she was taken to another, dressed in white robes. Right after the Angel had been clothed properly for the occasion, she was brought to a terrace. One would think it romantic... but there was no such romance. Only panic and fear and revulsion at the sight of man she would have 'to service', as one of the maids had put it. As far as she had been concerned, earlier, she had paid her service, waited for the scrubby, living scab of a man that she was forced to live under. But the service had just begun. After the rights were read and the priest said his own part, the act of matrimony was over -- or so she thought. Innocence has its virtues and its... soft points.

She rarely speaks of the events following her marriage, most likely because she may find the events embarrassing or painful to recall. But one can imagine just what went on after the marriage 'ceremony', if one understands the nature of today's newlyweds. However, the... desire for such actions were not desired enough by our host party, but such a man as the Count was not to be refused. Our wonderful lady Amelie lost her innocence and her good conscience under the pinning hands of the deemed Saintly Count of Burgundy. Behold, a Greek tragedy.

For the weeks and months after, Amelie, now starting to transform as what we know now as our Lady, turned to books as her escape. Literature calmed her mind and made her look forward to something when the Count called from his chambers.. and this was often. As frequent as he desired her, she never bore him any children, and never would. She has her suspicions about her infertility, and most lead to her late-husband. Logic could help you along the way to the answer. The lack of heirs did not bother the Count. Quite the awkward way of thinking. But the Count himself was also quite awkward, as everyone would find out soon enough.

Now in her early years, Amelie was never the brightest of little girls. Besides, the flow of time began and ended with her opening a book, reading it, pleasing her husband, returning to the book... over and over. It was a schedule. So she never noticed that her sweet lord never beckoned her in times of daylight... and it was this idiot's folly that made her what she is today. As an anniversary gift, after the Count had 'satisfied' himself, Amelie was killed. But she came back.

The rest is none so important as the first sixteen years of her life. Only an existence of pondering and studying and mourning what could have been but would never be. Pardon your narrator for the crude moments in this history's context. One would suppose it would only be the lady's wishes for you to know a brief summary of her Greek tragedy, should she let you hear any of it at all. Better to know the grim details than to know none at all... But still, your narrator begs for your forgiveness. Good day.

Hiya! I'm KT. I'm 18 and have been RPing for nine years. It's pretty sextastic, and THIS. IS. SPARTAAAA:

MSN: [e-mail]
EMAIL: ^
PM Chavelle Armentrout, Skip, or ANODYNE account


-----------------------------------------------------
And, uh, lyrics for making this little profile/bio thing... they were taken from Painted by Evans Blue. I think there was like a stanza taken from Pin-Up by the same band but.. yeah. Credit's due. KT MADE THIS. 'SMINE. [lickclings]

[/size]