JONES, Mabel [fin]

[Mabel Jones]

THERE'S A STORM
ON THE STREETS
B U T Y O U S T I L L D O N ' T RUN
W A T C H I N G A N D W A I T I N G
F O R T H E R A I N T O C O M E


_________________________________________________
I'll seek you out, flay you alive
One more word and you won't survive
And I'm not scared of your stolen power
I see right through you any hour

NAME|| Mabel Jones
NICKNAMES|| anything?
AGE/BIRTHDAY|| 155//24
GENDER/ORIENTATION|| Female//Bisexual
SPECIES|| Vampire
CANON|| no?


FACE CLAIM|| Diandra Forrest
HAIR COLOR|| blonde
EYE COLOR|| grey
ANIMAL COLOR|| fur color, if applicable
BLOOD DIET|| humans
BUILD|| tall and thin; looks emaciated as if she has been starved
STYLE|| (optional)
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES|| Albinism

PERSONALITY|| Mabel is a vampire who swore an oath of revenge and each action is driven by that raw emotion. She is vindictive and manipulative. She doesn’t seem to care much about people who might get in her way, even if they mean no harm. Ruthless in her tactics and steadfast in her resolve, she makes sure she gets what she wants. And when you are in her hand, under her power, you can be sure any attempt at freedom will result in punishment. Mabel has little tolerance and her patience wears thin quickly. It would better for you to steer as clear from her as possible or to give her what she wants.

STRENGTHS|| passionate, unafraid, straightforward
WEAKNESSES|| quick to anger, lingering sense of inadequacy for which she overcompensates
SECRETS/FEARS|| (optional)

SKILLS|| Mabel knows how to manage her slaves well; first and foremost she is a business woman, and a very capable one at that. Part of her ability to control him came naturally from the environment in which she was accustomed to as a small child. She was born into slavery and because of her defect, she was treated even worse than most slaves. She saw how her family and the other slaves were controlled and she understood the kind of fear that kept them in their place.


OCCUPATION|| slave driver
FAMILY|| parents, siblings, significant-others, children, pets, etc.
HOMETOWN|| a plantation near Charleston that no longer exists
HISTORY||

Mabel Jones was born on July 22, 1857 on a large plantation in South Carolina shortly before the outbreak of the Civil War. Her early childhood was spent as a slave girl in a time where being a black woman was one of the most difficult lifestyles even in states where slavery was abolished. Not only was she of African descent and born the daughter of a slave woman, she also had a condition known as albinism that made her skin as pale and her hair as yellow as the people who were her masters.

When her mother was pregnant with her, no one had any doubt that the child belonged to the slave woman's husband, another slave and a tall, strong, dark-as-night man. But the day she was born brought doubt into the minds of her poor mother's family and even fellow slaves. Even the white family, living in the big house on the hill, were concerned about her origin, especially the wife and sister of the plantation owner. They all suspected the worst; that the man that owned them had fathered the petite, sickly girl behind the wife's back. He denied those suspicious, of course, because for one thing the thought of fornicating with a slave disgusted him and for another thing they just weren't true. He knew who the child’s real father was.

Whether or not they accepted his word as gospel was irrelevant because at the end of the day, she was still the child of a slave and destined to be the same till the end of her days. Little did they know, the world as they knew it was about to undergo a drastic change and society would never return to what it once was. Blissfully ignorant of all evil and prejudices in the world, Mabel grew under the protective watch of her mother and grandmother. Once in a while they did have to work in the fields of the plantation but most of their servitude was spent closer to the house because of their lighter skin tone. Quick trivia note: slaves were often chosen for specific jobs depending on the tone of their skin. Lighter skinned slaves typically worked inside as maids and cooks (like her mother and grandmother) and darker skinned slaves were outside in the fields (like her father).

Mabel's father had no doubt that she was his; he was completely convinced that she had his eyes and her mother's smile. She also shared his handsome face and high cheekbones. But unfortunately it was this conviction that led him to his death. The wife of the plantation owner spared no one her sharp looks and icy words and took every chance she got to accuse Mabel's poor mother of everything; every single thing that went wrong was her fault. All the slaves saw the bullying that took place but didn’t do anything to change it; even the other residents and frequent visitors of the house (friends of the family and the like) felt uncomfortable witnessing these events. It was so bad there came a point where the owner of the plantation himself grew very irritated and fell into an ill, grief-stricken state. Then one day Mabel's protective and loving father couldn't take it any longer and snapped; he retaliated against the plantation owner’s wife.

He was never violent toward anyone and didn't injure anyone in anyway. He was simply trying to protect the integrity of his wife and the honor of his daughter, but as a slave it wasn't his place to say what he did. He was born a slave and was now doomed to die as one. Thanks to him, Mabel was able to live a sheltered life, free from the sufferings that most slave children would have to endure. She was endowed with the bliss of not knowing how different she really was aside. She didn't think for a second that she didn't belong. But the death of her father would mark the start of a new era in her life; one where she would have to begin to realize and accept who she was as a human being. She would have to accept being different and deal with the consequences that came with her disposition. Though you and I know that she won't be able to keep that humanity, the only thing she could rely on was the hope of a brighter future. Yes, she faced awful hardships and extreme prejudice yet she came to terms with it. She wouldn't accept her situation but she was determined to make the most of it.

I won't go into details about how her father died, or rather, how he was put to death. I'll only say that his death left the family vulnerable. Nobody really paid much attention to them before. There was the scandal of Mabel's birth of course, but rumors and gossip were as far as it went. Now that the owner's wife had a reason to intervene in their small little slave lives, however trivial that reason may be, she would do her best to make them miserable. In their minds, that awful woman had all the power in the world; she had everything that they could never dream to have. Not only was she wealthy, but she also had status and influence on the decisions of her husband, their owner. They had everything to fear and most couldn't bear to think what could happen to them.

The tragedy of being a slave was that you had no control over your own life. One may argue that, from our day to day actions and our ability to move our bodies of our own free will, we do indeed have control and can influence the events that occur around us. But ultimately, whether or not a slave was sold was entirely up to the owner. There were rare occasions where a slave would be kidnapped or even make an escape to the north; they were the lucky ones. Mabel would meet a much different fate through the actions of her owners, a fate which she had no control over. After losing his best laborers to various factors, including the death of Mabel’s father, the plantation was in the market for more slaves. But instead of paying a monetary sum for new slaves, he traded goods. Unable to handle his wife’s crazy antics over one slave, Mabel became one of those traded goods.

In the hands of a new slaver, she was put in chains for the first time in her life and shipped off to Mystic Falls. That slaver was a member of the Salvatore family and soon, she was a domestic slave on the estate. Despite her strange looks, her size put her at an advantage, allowing her to go unnoticed by most people. Her time was spent in the kitchens washing dishes and scrubbing floors. She helped do the laundry and muck out the stables. Any dirty job was her charge and although it was miserable and she missed her parents every day, she didn’t find much to complain about. Since the day she was born, Mabel had accepted her birthright simply because it was the only thing she knew. She was fed and clothed and was in want of nothing, except for perhaps undoing the chains.

But her sense of peace, however warped it was, would soon be gone and she would have reason to try to leave that place. She would be the center of more scandal than her little mind could even fathom at the time. The son of the Salvatore that had bought her from her first owner took a more than uncomfortable liking to Mabel and decided he would act on those “feelings.” At the time, she was only twelve and was just starting to go through puberty. Her body wasn’t ready for the kind of strain that premature sex would put on it. And not only was it premature, but forced and somewhat violent. The man had enough sense not to push her too hard, but for her that seemed almost worse.

The other slaves and servants knew there was something going on and she could do nothing to tell them the truth. If she told them what was really happening, would they believe her? And if they did, what could they do to stop it? If everyone found out as a result, what would he do to her? But then, perhaps the servants thought that she wanted to be with him because she wasn’t fighting back enough. Mabel was trapped and had nowhere to go. Who would believe a slave girl that had been the source of so much scandal in the first place? No one had any reason to pity her or, in fact, with any emotion. She was an object to be had and had been taught that that was what she was. There was no changing or denying it because it was all she ever knew.

But her mind would soon be changed. He said horrible things to her that, even to someone in her diminished and hardly human form, would make your blood boil and make rage swell up inside. He called her a nothing not worth anyone’s time. He told her that he was doing her an honor by raping her by showing her what the world was really like, showing her what it meant to feel something. He didn’t regard her as a human, at least not the same kind of human that he was. In the end, she was glad that she wasn’t the same and finally decided to show him that. Mabel wasn’t going to stand for the treatment she was receiving any longer. So, as he entered her room one day, she brandished a knife she had stolen from the kitchen and tried to cut off his balls. She wasn’t completely successful, but she managed to keep him from using them ever again.

Though she tried to run, she was only a small, malnourished girl at the time and was caught and nearly beaten to death. But someone saved her from a painful end and she vowed to meet that person one day. She was forced to continue her service while the Salvatore head decided what to do with her. As the investigation continued, the slaves weren’t the only ones who knew what that Salvatore punk had been doing to Mabel. Though the white residents of Mystic Falls weren’t exactly sympathetic to what she had gone through, they didn’t blame her for it, at least not entirely. No one, however, deemed her violent reaction necessary and she was often scorned. Wherever she went, she was met with mixed reactions, usually always negative ones. Oftentimes, she was beaten for no reason other than people’s fear and the need to cope with that feeling.

On more than one occasion, her protector would come to her rescue and she would find herself lying in a cabin in the woods, completely healed. This cabin always had a rank, putrid air as if some already bad-smelling plant inside had been dead and rotting for a long time. Sometimes he left notes, encouraging her to seek him out someday but warning her against running away. She had to bide her time and grow before he could even consider seeing her. Eventually she learned the name of her mysterious guardian and kept the sound of it close to her heart. He called himself Mackandal. She would learn the name’s connection to history much later. That realization would mark the beginning of her own historical legacy.

The master of the house didn’t have the heart to sell her. His decision may have been based in part for his hatred of the young Salvatore that had violated Mabel. In any case, life continued as normal for most people. The case of the ball-cutting slave was soon forgotten by the people of the town. But the fear and ill-treatment remained. But Mabel persevered and grew into a tall, beautiful woman, surpassing all expectations that had been set for her. In fact, people thought she would die; there were even people that put that expectation into practice. If it weren’t for Mackandal, she would have been dead long before she had any self-respect. One day, she simply left the house without a word. Nobody saw her leave and they could find no trace of her anywhere. It was like she vanished. With Mabel gone, she was soon completely forgotten.

Her hatred for the people of Mystic Falls was unprecedented and she vowed to one day rain destruction on them all for their treatment. Then Mackandal showed his gorgeous face and opened the curtain to let the light in. He taught her everything about the world that she needed to know. As a slave, she was never given any sort of education. Despite this, at the age of twenty, she took in new knowledge like a sponge and remembered it all. She learned to read and write and proceeded to study history, philosophy, literature, and mathematics under Mackandal’s watchful eye. Then he told her about vampires. He told her that he was one and she wasn’t afraid. She begged him to change her but he told her she wasn’t ready. But once she was, the process was quick. The pain was almost unbearable but she reveled in it and in her darkest hour, became a hunter. Her knowledge of the history of black folk spurred her on. She vowed revenge not only from the people of Mystic Falls, but from every person who might enslave another human being. She didn’t consider her change dehumanized; she considered it an endowment and the ultimate height of evolution. The old ways were dead, and the new would rise from the ashes in retribution.

BEHIND THE SCENES|| Jin
OTHER CHARACTERS|| Lee Turner (not yet)
CONTACT|| pm through site (doesn’t matter which account; I check all my pms all the time)
RP SAMPLE|| Audrey was lucky to be alive. The night was high and the moon was shining bright in the dark sky, menacingly full. There were no stars dotting the black canvas. Instead, drifting clouds took their place, creeping along, hiding the moon's figure teasingly like strips of torn cloth. Audrey was lucky to be safe. It could have been her, having to take vile potions every month and being an outlaw with a secret, forever traumatized by a gruesome act no one had any control over. She remembers that night better than anything else. That was the night her sister Judy went through her first transformation. Audrey was lucky to have ignorance. By the time she got home from school, her mother was already gone and would soon be buried. A mere month had passed since the attack, since they lost their mother. They were in the lowest point of their mourning cycle and what was worse was that they both knew their father would never recover. The image of his dying wife was forever carved into his memory and nothing, not even the eroding element of time, could wash it away.

Her poor sister was terrified, nervous, afraid of losing control and of hurting Audrey. As they walked out that evening, into the crisp coolness of the evening, Judy brought her coat around her tightly and kept her eyes glued to the ground, watching her own feet take each step. She never looked at or said anything to her older sister. She knew that she only had so much time left, mere minutes before she lost control, before she wouldn't be able to move her feet steadily forward like this. It was hard to believe something like that could happen, some unknown consciousness taking control and wreaking havoc. That was the part she didn't see when that werewolf came for them, the transformation itself. When she woke up after the attack, the healer that was in charge of her well-being knew what happened and didn't hide it from her family. But he promised to keep it a secret from the government or from anyone else who might turn them in. His own brother had died at the hands of the ministry only a few days after he was attacked. He didn't want that to happen to anyone else.

With the help of this friendly healer, they left the hospital, buried their mother, and moved to the countryside, away from anyone that might grow suspicious. Audrey continued to attend the Salem Institute, but it would never be the same again. Before she could go back to Salem, she had to help her sister because she knew her father couldn't. She had to throw her innocence of the matter aside and make the sacrifice Judy needed. Looking over at her sister, she could see the fear behind her eyes, in the way she walked, and in the way she pulled herself together, fingers clutching at her sides, fists clenched so tightly that her fingernails left marks visible in her palms from a distance. Neither of them had experienced anything as terrifying as the silence that engulfed them, the silence that the grinning moon seemed to force onto them as they sat in the squalid room of that shack, the looming uncertainty of the inevitable. She watched Judy gulp down the wolfsbane potion, take off her clothes, and sit her bare bottom on the wooden planks in the center of the room. They had taken precautions and planned out the process, but nothing could have prepared them and it seemed that everything they did beforehand was futile and vain.

The worst of human conditions is curiosity and in some ways it has a hand in inflicting pain and causing death for everyone. In the weeks she had to wait for the moon to show its whole face, Judy fell victim to that curiosity, a desire to know what would happen to her by the mere sight and presence of the moon. What kid going through the public school system didn't know anything, even vaguely, about the nature of lycanthropy? She sought out physical descriptions of every detail from people she thought might know something, the sensations of growing several inches in mere minutes and of losing the physical features that defined one's characteristics, the pain of all of that and of falling into a blackness, the shock of awakening to disaster. Cross-legged in the middle of the floor, it began and was nothing like anything she'd ever experienced. It was so unlike any pain she had ever felt even after all these years she is unable to aptly describe it. Every time it happens, she's never prepared and will probably never grow used to the cycle. There was no way to avert the terror.

Judy Ann Kessler became extremely pale within seconds, the movement of her breathing was no longer visible, her eyes glazed over and became colorless as if her soul left or had been snatched away. Then they turned a pale, creamy yellow, the veins on the membrane pulsed, pupils eclipsed irises. She lurched forward as the first wave of pain and nausea set in; the movement of the muscles in her body, writhing and convulsing underneath her skin, was clearly visible. Clutching at her head, Judy rocked back and forth, trying to make the agony subside in any way possible. Audrey looked on with horror as Judy's face began to morph and grow as if it was being pulled, stretched beyond its limits. The same thing happened to her back and her spine pushed itself upward, jutting out. Her teeth grew into fangs and her nose spread into a bloody snout. At her full height, she stood at seven feet, growing nearly two feet in less than an hour. She reached her clawed hands up to the roof the shack and ripped out the ceiling of the first floor. Her mouth gaped open and she howled, her true nature finally set free.

Blakness.

As this happened, her older sister watched on in horror and fell to the ground, scooting her back against the wall as far as she could to get away from the monstrous event she witnessed. She reached into her coat for her pocket and brought it out in front of her as a means of protection, face contorted into an utter terror. Her mouth gaped open widely as if she was silently screaming. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably and sweat gathered at her temples and in the hair beneath the bun on the back of her head, her back and the sides of her neck. Tears threatened to pour from her eyes and her whole body began to quake as the lycan beast moved toward her. It roared again, but at her this time as it moved closer and closer. She fumbled to stand up, dropping her wand a couple of times, and, with her hand gripping the wall for security, started to back out of the room. She knew she shouldn't leave, that she had to stay here. The thing knocked the wand out from her had in her distraction and she fell again, wand now on the other side of the room.

"Stay back!" she shouted. Just then a strange thing happened. It did what she asked and then it just sat on its hind legs and stared at her. Ears pricked and head tilted, it let out another noise that sounded almost like a whine of some kind, like a sad and lonely dog. It seemed to be begging, "Please don't leave me. Don't leave me here alone," Of course Judy was in there, Audrey knew that deep down. A frightened girl was buried somewhere beneath that ugly, menacing exterior. Audrey's breath slowed a bit and she was finally able to listen to her own racing heartbeat. Then, with her wand still sitting in that room, she turned and ran out of the building, closing and bolting the front door behind her. Still clutching the door, she closed her eyes and waited for Judy to start banging on it to get out, to rip her apart for betraying her. But it didn't come and she opened her eyes again to look out at the lights of the freeway far off in the distance. I can assure you that Audrey didn't leave her sister that night, but that memory would stay with her forever. From then on, she couldn't bring herself to believe that that thing and her sister were the same entity. It was so easy for her cower at the sight of the full moon and of the things that came out in its wake.

The fear would never go away. For either of them.

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N O W T H E R E ' S N O W A Y B A C K
F R O M T H E T H I N G S Y O U ' V E D O N E
I K N O W I T ' S T O O L A T E
TO STOP THE SETTING SUN

[Jelly]

Accepted <3

Sooo excited for her xD