|
Unregistered
|
[align=center] G I N E V R A D E M E D I C I

* By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top I climbed the tree to see the world When the gusts came around to blow me down I held on as tightly as you held onto me .
HEY THERE. THE NAME IS KIM, AND I AM 8TEEN. I'VE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR ABOUT FOREVER AND MY OTHER CHARACTERS WOULD BE NONEXISTENT.. I FOUND FKAC AT CAUTION . OH, BY THE WAY, I READ THE RULES. WANT PROOF? THE CODE WORD IS admin edit WANT TO REACH ME? HERE'S MY IM: jazzage@live.com
[/align]
[align=center]i. personality[/align]- An independent soul, Ginevra isn’t one who allows herself to rely on others. She believes in pulling her weight and doing her part instead of expecting others to do it for her. Though raised with the privileges of servants, she never allowed herself to leave even the smallest things for them to do. Why should she sit idly whilst they comb her hair when she could do the task on her own? She simply didn’t believe in leaving such miniscule tasks to others when she knew herself to be capable. Perhaps her beliefs stem from her tendency to be slightly controlling. Ginevra does not exercise this control to wield power over others but more so for the sovereignty of her being. Her desire is to be sole controller of her life. She wants her decisions, her choices and her goals to be dictated by what she wants, what she thinks is right and what she thinks will benefit her and those around her. She has seen many women in the past become consumed by others’ greed and manipulation. She saw how unhappy they were and promised herself that she would not let the same befall her. If she were to be unhappy, it would be the result of her own decisions or at the very least, something she can’t control: fate. This idea has evolved over time as she came to the realization that though she enjoyed being the mistress of circumstance, there were certain things that she couldn’t and shouldn’t touch. As a child, she found that she cannot command the rain to come for it was too hot or demand the sun because it was too cold. As an adult, she came to find that she cannot change others... that she can’t enforce peace between rivals or summon happiness to show her the way to it. Ginevra came to the conclusion that she would have take it upon herself instead of leaving it in the hands of another.
She is aware, however, that this nature of hers may be attributed to her skewed and cynical view of human nature. Perhaps it’s fear of how others may not be able to do things correctly or well. Underneath it all, Ginevra’s more afraid of her life and the lives of those she loves will take a turn for the worst because of a third party’s incompetence, selfishness and malice. She simply can’t find it within her to trust the majority of the world that they would act in her interest or that most others can truly be so selfless. She has always been shielded from seeing such a thing manifested in Florence. Her governess, her home’s servants, their priest... all that they seem to tell her of is the greatest things. Never have they spoken a word to her with an inclination that there are others who suffer while she has so much. In her eyes, it’s strange that the rich are overwhelmingly rich and that the poor are worse than she could ever imagine. If those around her couldn’t even reveal the truth to her, how is she to trust them? Is it their intention to render her weak? To buckle her down into a doll that they can easily marry off for the sake of their advantage?
Whatever their reasons may be, she doesn’t want to risk it. Once upon a time, her naivety led her to believe that all is good, that people are inherently good but as she saw more of those around her, she observed that there may be less good than she was made to think. The harsh reality hit her and it her quite violently: humans know no bounds in their methods to satisfy their desires. Of course, this applies to her as much as it does to others. Ginevra accepts the fact that she is unlikely to ever become a saint or ascend to heaven. She’s enough of a realist to understand that she has had her share of actions and thoughts that God severely disapproves of. Ginevra’s entirely sure that heaven won’t accept her immediately or that heaven won’t accept her at all. She tends to ignore, for the time being, that she may just burn in hell for her own sins. Instead, she attempts to live for today, for now and do what she thinks is right for her. Since she’s sure of fate, Ginevra finds no need to be haunted by her actions or to be restricted by the fear of eternal damnation. Because of this, she has the confidence to assert herself. Her strong will carries her through the criticisms she may receive for holding certain views. However, this strong will can border on arrogance or a dogmatic behaviour. She only relies on what she believes to be right and how she thinks things should be. Moreover, Ginevra believes that it’s her responsibility to make things right, to save someone or to make things better for someone else. As a result, she often takes on too much on her shoulders or resorts to extreme measures. If she doesn’t, who will? Ginevra has very little trust that others would be able to take the plunge because they live in fear. This is not to say that Ginevra is without fear because for someone so willing to exercise her bravery, she possesses fears just as the next person beside her.
Ginevra fears that she’ll lose control over her life as she places great value on going about her life on her terms. She fears having to succumb to a greater power that will force her to take a path she doesn’t want to take. Ginevra’s terrified of losing her footing, of not knowing, of being unsure. Confusion, the unknown and the fall that may result from it frightens her. What she doesn’t know or understand worries Ginevra because things that are so complicated can only be dangerous. If she doesn’t understand it, she can’t form a plan to shield herself from it should it prove to be a threat. Ginevra has a habit of closing herself off to others because there are times when she doesn’t understand them or when she can’t see their rationale. She’s private and selective of who she allows in. It’s not out of elitism or pride but because she has seen what happens to those who trust too easily. There’s an acceptable amount of doubt, in her mind. Her faith is made unstable by this belief. Ginevra doesn’t believe things without seeing them before her. So often does she demand proof of things before believing them but as she experienced more, she saw that she cannot withhold her judgment whilst waiting for calculations, concrete proof or something of the sort. There are times when she must look into herself and take note of what she feels, of her first impression of something or whatever her instinct tells her. She then follows it begrudgingly for the looming fear that she may later regret thinking too rashly.
She may be opinionated and slightly unforgiving but Ginevra’s loyalty, once gained, is unwavering. The chances that she will cheat, betray or lie to those she is loyal to are slim to none. She remains faithful if she swears to be so. However, this doesn’t necessarily mean that she isn’t inclined to do those things at all. If she sees it fit or for her benefit or her loved ones’, she won’t think twice before committing such acts. Ginevra doesn’t believe in sending others to do her work, however, because she doesn’t trust them to do it and more importantly, because she doesn’t want someone else to take the fall for her. With every cause is an effect, with every action is a reaction and with every choice is a consequence. Whether she acted correctly or wrongly, she believes that she, alone, should handle the result of it just as her actions are decided solely by her. In the event that others are involved, she ensures that the burden is hers to have because more often than not, she takes the position of the leader. Ginevra has the tendency to take the helm and steer. Therefore, she begins the reaction that trickles down to those with her. It hardly seems fair that they feel the effect as strongly as she does when she was at the head of it all. Should her plans fail, regardless of others’ contributions, Ginevra immediately feels that she is at fault for the failure and takes entire responsibility for it. Should she sink, she won’t take the remainder of the ship along with her.
On the other hand, Ginevra tries very hard to make others feel comfortable around her. She doesn’t go out of her way to intimidate or threaten. As a matter of fact, she treats others with respect and always resorts to good manners. However, there are times when her tendency to be vocal about her beliefs conflict with her courteousness. She’s beginning to learn that there is a time and place for debate over matters which she feels strongly about but this process has been rather slow. Ginevra’s very much attached to how she feels about certain subjects and how she handles things that anything new tends to scare her. Ginevra dislikes change when she doesn’t understand what things morph into. She may like learning about new principles, facts or developments in science and art, abrupt changes and introductions of new methods of how things are done aren’t a love of hers. Unless she spearheads the change or it coincides with her belief of how the future should be, Ginevra shies away from radical and revolutionary change that strays too far from what she considers to be normal. She’s not completely opposed to it but she would much rather transition gradually and understand. The latter may take some time as she needs to extract herself out of her world first in order to realize that she is merely part of large whole so she must do her part well to ensure that the world is made better... which is all she really desires.
[align=center]ii. history[/align]- Lorenzo de’ Medici, at the advice of his brother, sought to find a wife for the expansion of the de’ Medici line. With the status such as what Lorenzo possessed, the search for a wife brought him Seramirade, the daughter of a wealthy politician. They met a week before their marriage and found each other to be tolerable enough. There was no carnal love, however, and their desire to consummate the marriage didn’t stem from their yearning for the other but for the fulfillment of their duties. They were kind to each other but the lack of marital love between them was an unspoken truth. Though Lorenzo tried his best to remain faithful to his wife, he slipped here and there. Fortunately, no illegitimate children surfaced or at least, none that Lorenzo knew of. The couple, however, focused more so on doing as they were expected and produced heirs to continue on their line.
Pienfrancesco, their first child, is named after Lorenzo’s father who died when he was thirteen. Seramirade was able to breathe as she did what was wanted of her: produce a son. Pienfrancesco, of course, received all the privileges of the being the first-born son. He had to learn how to share when a second son, Averardo, was born. As the parents expected, the two mostly fought over things. Toys, food, attention... it seemed that it was more than enough for the both of them that they had another sibling to share things with. Much to their dismay, their parents continued to have children which the couple didn’t plan on upon their marriage. They... grew to love the other. Though the love that blossomed wasn’t as strong as they may have felt for others before, they wanted to have more children for more than just the political advantage it may later give them. They never spoke of it. They never told each other that they truly cared for the other. Their children are the only physical proof of it. Laudomia was born two years after Averardo. Their fourth child didn’t arrive until some years after Laudomia because of the conflicts between Lorenzo’s part of the family and his cousins. Ginevra was born in the year 1492 amidst the tension within the family. Her brother, Vincenzo, was born a year after. The following year, Ginevra’s father was exiled along with her uncle. Within a few months, her father’s position was restored and the family maintained a stable status in society.
Ginevra’s childhood, though it began rocky due to conflicts that she doesn’t recall, was more or less the norm for those of her station. She grew up with riotous brothers and a vain but caring older sister. Ginevra was aware of their wealth but was raised by her parents to understand that wealth doesn’t mean that she may have all that she wants. They learned the lesson from giving Pienfracesco whatever he asked for and worked to ensure that their other children don’t fall into the same trap. From her father, Ginevra learned that supporting the development of great minds and of talent is greatly important. She was also taught that she should aim to possess knowledge instead of more material wealth. Lorenzo instructed his children to see that knowledge cannot be stolen or ruined which makes it more valuable than their estates, their clothing and even their art. Her father was a great lover of the arts. He served as patron to artists and philosophes so often that Ginevra grew accustomed to the coming and going of strangers in their home. They became family, in her eyes, and she would be rather sad when the time came that they must depart. As a child, she spent more time running her hands on painted canvases when their maker’s eyes were turned elsewhere. She absorbed every shade, every rise and fall of the strokes and every message that she could deduce from the works. Her fingers grazed the tops of sculptures and mind thrived on the stories she heard of the artists who made them.
Her home wasn’t hers alone. Their guests were numerous and her curiosity was plentiful. Sermirade secured a tutor for her children and none of them were happier than Ginevra. She found pleasure in learning, in correcting her siblings and striving for excellence. Though Ginevra would speak fondly of those lazy afternoons where she would lay awake, listening to her teacher drone on about history or Latin, what she would never admit is how truly envious she was, and still is, of her brother’s intelligence. Vincenzo, though the youngest, is the smartest and it upset Ginevra as she intended to fill that niche. However hard she tried, she couldn’t surpass his excellence. She feared that it would be another matter in which the men dominate. Ginevra didn’t want that to be used against her. She didn’t want it to prevent her from being a valid voice, a valued voice.
As Florence succumbed to a power struggle between her family and the Albizzis’, the Estes’ as well as the Ferraras’, Ginevra found it difficult to make her voice heard and considered. Her brothers took the lead and so did her cousins which left her forced to do as her family instructed. Caught in the same dilemma was one Giovanni Albizzi. As the sixteenth century dawned, Ginevra saw the prominence of her family rise while others sank. With their success came the removal of her family’s rivals which included the Albizzi. Horrified at the consequences to befall her family’s rivals, there wasn’t much that Ginevra could do but attempt to convince her brothers that they were being unreasonable. As she expected, they found her to be foolish and ‘soft’. The young lady could only scoff and swear that she would do something to make them realize that they were being far too severe.
Ginevra sought the Albizzi family on her own, unbeknownst to her brothers and sister. It was difficult to get past the surveillance of her servants and the wandering eyes of her family but she was determined to meet them, to put a face, a voice and a soul to the people she was made to despise. Ginevra was on the brink of surrender until music led her to her goal. At a gathering she attended, such charming music filled her ear that she longed to pay her compliments to its creator. The host was hesitant to do so but Ginevra insisted. She was led to a man who appeared to be roughly ten years her senior. Mature but pleasant in countenance, he seemed to be as surprised by the meeting as she was. The minute their names were exchanged, the room hushed quieter. Uncomfortable by the silence around her, Ginevra sat beside him and began to play one of the few duets she knew. Apprehensive that she would look like a fool, she held her breath until she heard the chatter to slowly return to its normal volume. A sigh of relief escaped her as she saw his fingers pressing the keys in sync with her. Before Ginevra could speak to him privately, she was forced to leave and return home to the many lectures of her brother.
There was no sight of Giovanni since which sparked worry in Ginevra. The next time she heard of him, her brothers were planning the exile of the Albizzis. Ginevra immediately burst through the doors and prevented them from doing so. She told them that they couldn’t possibly send her fiancée to exile. This caused her brother’s blood to boil and the protests of the rest of her family. They questioned her incessantly and Ginevra formed lies as quickly as the queries were launched at her. After much yelling, exclaims of disappointment and confusion, she convinced them that the ruin of the family isn’t her purpose for entering such an engagement. What she was doing was so much more: hopefully gaining them an ally who would work for them instead of against them. For how long they would see the Albizzis’ as allies, Ginevra didn’t know but what she did know is that she would use the marriage to make it as lengthy as possible. With her family sorted out, it left Ginevra with one more hurdle: her ‘fiancée’ still wasn’t aware that they are to be married.
She hurried to the Albizzi home and sought an audience with Giovanni. Her cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, Ginevra uncovered that she had a request. She asked if it was possible that he could do her a favour: marry her. She went into somewhat of a frenzy, as she usually does on the rare occurrence of nerves, while attempting to explain how silly she must sound but that it might be a good idea because it wouldn’t be a favourable result for the both of them if they didn’t. Giovanni placed a hand on her arm to stop her and told her that he’s sure to forget that she said such things. He took her hand, as if nothing had transpired, and proposed. They knew that they didn’t love each other as strongly as they thought husbands and wives should. However, respect was evident. They realized that they enjoy each other’s company and shared things in common. They knew little about each other but Ginevra found that what she liked what she did know, her husband’s weaknesses and flaws included. The feeling came to her that she may one day grow to love him. She didn’t know when or how strongly she would come to love him but something about his mannerisms, his passion for his music and his gentle nature that assured her of it. The catalyst for such feelings came in the form of an odd incidence. It started out with a simple question. Did she like the melody slow or fast? This note or that? Should he place a rest in the seventeenth bar or not? How long should it be for? How should he go about his bitter siblings? He would ask her and he would... consider her answer. They would even decide together. Ginevra had never seen such a phenomenon in her household. Matters were mostly dealt with by her father and then by her brothers. She would simply give her opinion because she knew that she would never be asked for it.
Though she reached some success in weaving the engagement together, full trust failed to exist between the Medicis’ and the Albizzis’. Years of rivalry couldn’t simply be patched up by nuptials, she knew. There was only so much she could do and she believed that she had done it all. Much as she disliked it, she couldn’t enforce a bridge of confidence across the enormous rift that separated her family and the Albizzis’. To prevent her from further interference, her brothers politely ordered that she spend some time in England. Her lodgings, of course, would be courtesy of the Queen. Her father wasn’t without connections. The ones he had were nothing short of the best. As her father was cousin to Pope Leo X, it made the new Queen of England family. Naturally, any familial relations were perceived as of the utmost importance. Perhaps when any matter of the royal variety was concerned... any connection was considered valued by her family.
To calm her nerves about their actions in her absence, they so kindly included Giovanni in their little holiday. She knew that her travels were for more than just some prenuptial time to bond but a chance for her family to snoop about without her knowledge and interference.
Thus, Ginevra finds herself in one such situation she so hates to be in: without control of her fate but with fear that someone else will slip up while she is made to enjoy the English court in all its glory.
[/font]- - - - - Roleplay Sample,
Quiet.
It was simply too quiet. Each turn of the page echoed in the otherwise empty manor Dorea shared with her husband. If only she could fill each room with the common sounds of everyday life, she would but fate didn’t allow it. With her husband away at work and the house elf gone to visit friends, the home only had her to shelter from the many eccentricities of the world around her. Perhaps it wasn’t the world that was strange, but her. The Black family assured that she was aware of her oddities. They found it bizarre that she didn’t take every opportunity to rub elbows with the highest of the high on the ladder of pureblood society, that her house elf wasn’t bruised, frightened or traumatized and that she could care less about the Knights. The latter triggered the detachment from her family, but she couldn’t help but entertain the idea that she was never quite attached to them in the first place. As soon as she exited the womb, she was separated from them as they come. She could only imagine how it must have felt for Marius. At least she shared the bond of magic with her family while he didn’t. For as long as she can remember, said bond was the only commonality valued by her family. The ability to wield a wand, to fly, apparate, go to Hogwarts... they were all things associated with magic and not much else.
Though, she wasn’t so disillusioned that she couldn’t admit that for some time, she thought the very same. Magic was everything. It was anything and everything they should aspire to create, hone and be. Without it, they’re useless. With it, they’re the only things useful to the world. Such an idea only sprouted such monstrosities that Dorea couldn’t condone. The way her family treated their house elves, the spitting at Muggle existence and the sheer lengths they were willing to go in order to purify the world of the ‘dirt’ brought about by the Muggle race... it was too much. The destruction of humanity in the very people she once loved deeply caused her heart to swell in pain but through it all, she couldn’t say or even consider the idea that she hated her siblings even though they were both strong supporters of the so-called noble cause. The ideas and values they held were too difficult for her to wrap her mind around that she merely opted to stray as far away from it all as she could.
Before, all that really mattered was how far she could get herself, and Marius, away from them. With time, it quickly grew to how far away she could make sure Charlus was from it all. The Black family, in reality, was more than a clan of blood relations. It was practically an institution, led by some on top and secured by the bottom. It would take more than running away, petty insults and a hefty Gringotts vault to hinder them. As a matter of fact, refusal and denial only fuel their desire more. Unfortunately, Dorea didn’t have any other choice but to keep refusing and denying lest Charlus get sucked into the destructive pool of idealised superiority that rose from her family and their allies’ minds. For all she knew, it was too late to keep the rest of the world safe from their plans and beliefs but Dorea had never been the most idealistic person. The best she could do was live her life as she hoped they would, too, and do everything she could to ensure that they couldn’t wrap their malicious fingers around Charlus who did nothing to deserve the constant pestering, the hidden agendas and the masked threats. He never asked for it but Dorea always felt that it just so happened to come with marrying her. He must have known that, too, yet he still married her. The reasons for which, she didn’t understand but it was hardly something she would complain about. Though, the thought of how calm and normal his life would be without the constant invitations and intimidations from the Knights. Such a life would have been possible had he married someone else... someone who belonged to a family with less of a tendency toward insanity, cruelty and general hatred for others unlike themselves.
Even so, he often emphasized that it wasn’t her fault and that their doing had nothing to do with her for she was very much different. When he was away and too far to provide her comfort, he encouraged her to entertain herself out of the house. Otherwise, she would only have her thoughts to keep her company which only escalated what guilt and paranoia she had. In his absence, as well as the house elf they still kept with them, she ventured to take his advice. A few hours in Diagon Alley couldn’t make anything worse, she decided. At her arrival, the sounds of the streets, and those on it, filled her ears. Groups of friends laughing and giggling, couples chatting, neighbours catching up, children begging their parents for new toys... she smiled sadly at the scenes around her. To her, they led simpler, humbler lives than she did. Perhaps some of them dreamed of the robes she had, the manor she grew up in and the prestige of being a presumed guest at whatever soiree any pureblood acquaintance held. Dorea would have gladly given those privileges up for a life with less worry of the malevolence beneath the polite smiles, courteous inquiries and pretentiousness.
She shook the thoughts out of her head as she walked through Diagon Alley, exchanging small but pleasant smiles with those she passed. Her head tipped forward near the shop windows and gazed at their respective offerings. Books, brooms, clothes... such tiny clothes, those are, she thought. The little space for feet, the small torsos and short arms... the only being she knew of that would fit was the house elf they kept. Often, her trips resulted in a bag of clothes for their house elf that refused to leave their service regardless of the freedom he already had. It was for the better, perhaps, that the elf didn’t roam on the streets without a mistress or master for if any of her supremacist acquaintances were to find their elf, he’d likely never roam anywhere again.
The outline of someone passing behind alerted her mind back to reality. Dark hair, tall in height, approaching.... Her eyes narrowed at the reflection on the mirror. Did Charlus get out of work earlier than intended? It wouldn’t have surprised her if he knew that she would be there as he had an uncanny ability to know just what she would do in certain situations. Unnervingly strange sometimes, yes, but mostly comforting to know that somewhere in the intricate workings of their minds, there was bond rooted in understanding. If anyone knew that she stood in the middle of Diagon Alley at that time of day, it would be him and no one else. However, he did so stress that he would still be at work for a little longer. As her curiosity mounted, she turned around to meet who she presumed to be her husband lest the quiet of all days past had silently brought upon madness.
[align=center] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY THATSNOTMYNAME ! @ CAUTION EDITED BY LANIE OF FKAC [/align]
|